


One, Two, Three, Four

by Justaidenwrites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Self Harm, Asexual Character, Cop Iwaizumi, Drug Use, F/M, Flashbacks, Found, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Kidnapped, M/M, Multi, Oikawa was kidnapped, Panic Attacks, Rape, Sexual Assault, Slavery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, beatings, gross usage of pet names, he gets found, medical talk, pro volleyball player oikawa, sorting as a coping mech, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justaidenwrites/pseuds/Justaidenwrites
Summary: At the age of 21, Oikawa Tooru, Setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, goes missing, is kidnapped in the middle of the night. Five years later, he his found beaten, battered, and brainwashed. His childhood friend and fiance, Investigator Iwaizumi Hajime must try to accept the fact that Oikawa is no longer the easy-going person he used to be, while also trying to figure out exactly what happened to the love of his life.





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> So here is my newest work! I've actually been working on this project since back when I started UBNU, but decided to wait to post it. Please, please make sure you read all the tags before you start this fic. Don't take the trigger warning lightly. This fic is going to be dark, and vile, and in some places may make you want to cry. 
> 
> Please enjoy, though. This work is one I love just as dearly as my others. (There's an explanation for my inspiration in the end note)
> 
> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos at the end of this chapter. Your opinions of my work mean everything to me. (Also check out my other fic UBNU! I just updated the newest chapter yesterday!)

Every day was the same for Iwaizumi Hajime; Crawl out of bed at one of the most ungodly hours of the morning - He didn't refer to it as waking up, since it wasn't as though he was ever really asleep to begin with -, take a probably unhealthy amount of pain medication in a feeble attempt to rid himself of his ever-present headache, making sure to wash it down with coffee that had a tendancy to always taste like dirt. Take a shower, spending a good seventy-or-so percent of it just standing underneath the painfully hot water, letting the stream from the showerhead wet his dark hair, feeling it make his skin turn a deep shade of red as it cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. 

He would get dressed in clothes that always felt too stiff, would slip into that jacket of his that he'd had since college, and would go about his day. He'd sit at work, going through case after case with the same dead look in his eyes. He's talk with family members and witnesses and victims of crimes that had taken place. He'd offer those who were distressed a tissue, or a cup of water, some times a meal or coffee if it looked as though they needed it. He was kind, supportive, always looking out for those involved in his cases, but would ignore his own needs, wouldn't go to lunch; would just sit in his office. There was too much work to be done to waste time eating lunch. 

Most days, that sweet silver haired receptionist would come by with a bag of takeout from the sub shop down the street. He would say he ordered too much for himself, and couldn't possibly finish it all, though Iwaizumi could tell it was a lie. He would accept the meal, but, when nobody was looking, he would give it to the sad looking kid whose father was being tried for killing his mother, or the man who looked as though he was on his tenth coffee and maybe fifteenth cigarette of the day, pacing back and forth as he tried to accept the fact that his children were missing, that they had been missing for nearly two weeks and would probably never be found. If he was lucky, they would be able to find their corpses before they were decayed enough to be unrecognisable.

Iwaizumi's days were always like this. And when the night came, when the building was closing down and he could stay no longer, he'd wander down to that small bar in between his apartment and the precinct. He'd sink into a booth at the back of the room where nobody could see him wallow, and would down as many glasses of cheap whiskey that he could handle, chainsmoking until his fingers were cold and stiff from lack of circulation and he couldn't help the way he shivered at random intervals. He would sit there until the bar closed just a little after midnight, would drink and smoke and wallow and wonder just how his life had gotten this bad, just how he had let himself fall down the rabbit hole of complete disinterest in life, how he let himself become nothing more than the empty shell of a man he was today. 

And then he got the call. 

"We found him." 

"What?" Iwaizumi asked groggily, sitting up as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes. His gaze drifted over to the alarm clock on his nightstand, those luminesent green numbers staing back at him, reading 2:54am. He cussed. 

"Fuck, Daichi, can't whatever this is wait a few hours?" He reached for the bottle of advil that he always so conveniently left next to his bed to rid himself of the pounding in his brain, taking it dry and suppressing a cough. "I'm sure that whatever it is can wait until at least four." 

"No, Hajime, I'm afraid it can't." Daichi's voice was completely void of it's usual warmth, and that alone was enough to cause Iwaizumi to sit up straighter, and slide his feet to the hardwood flooring of his bedroom. "A male victim was found in an alleyway a few miles south of the precinct an hour ago. A witness called in reporting the sound of a scuffle and then looked outside and found him next to a dumpster." 

Iwaizumi stood, quickly moving towards his closet to find some pants and a shirt. "What happened? Is the victim alive?" 

There was a sigh. "Yes, he's alive. He was taken to the hospital. You probably won't believe me until you see it yourself, but... Guess who he is, Hajime." 

Iwaizumi's heart picked up it's pace in his chest, and the pounding from his headache seemed to suddenly increase. When he tried to speak, his mouth was suddenly too dry. 

It couldn't- He couldn't be... 

After all this time? 

No way. He had to ask, just to be sure. 

"Tooru?" He questioned, voice rasping in his throat. "He- Someone found him?" 

There was silence on the line for a mere moment. 

"Yes, Hajime. Tooru. He's come home." 

And with that, Iwaizumi seemed to go into overdrive, dressing and slipping into his shoes in a faster pace than he had in years. 

Oikawa. 

"I'll see you at the hospital," He told Daichi over the phone before hanging up without so much as a goodbye. He took the stairs as he left the apartment, having decided that the elevator was gonig to take too long. 

He was back.

Oikawa was back. 

Iwaizumi slid into his car, fishing the keys out of the pocket of his jacket and turning them in the ignition with a surprising amount of aggression.

Oikawa was alive. 

Despite everything, despite everybody believing he was dead, that he was gone and they would never see him again. 

After five years, five years of waiting, of reading the case files over and over, so many times that he had each word memorized. After having read so many articles and magazine covers; 'Oikawa Tooru, National mens volleyball team setter, missing', 'Still no suspect found in the case of Oikawa Tooru's disappearence, fans and loved ones holding vigil for the missing setter'. 

He was alive. 

\----

The sound of footsteps, the opening and closing of a door, the shuffling of feet, an incessent beeping sound that made Oikawa just want to smash his head against a wall. 

Maybe that would get rid of the terrible headache, or would at least render him unconcsious. 

Oikawa heard more movement, and he realized it must've been Father coming for his nightly check-in, so he tried to sit up. But his limbs felt heavy, too heavy to move, and Father hadn't ordered anything of him yet, so he figured he coud lie in his cot a little while longer. 

But then, through Oikawa's hazy mind, he realized that something wasn't right. The air didn't smell right, not like the usual rank scent of his room, more clean, almost sterile. And there was a soft weight over him, something warm. 

But that- that wasn't right. Father never ave him a blanket before, not ever. Was he somewhere else? No way- There's no way Father would let a guest keep him for the night. He must be in his room- He MUST. But what was happening?

Oikawa strained to open his eyes, to see what was going on around him. It took him some time, but when he finally managed to pry them open at least a crack, he found himself astonished and overwhelmed by the bright lights of the room he was in. He seemed to be in some sort of bed, which in itself was a rarity, and to his right was a large window with soft blue curtains filtering out the bright lights of the sun outside. 

Oikawa found that the irritating beeping sound seemed to becoming from a sort of heart monitor next to the bed, and Oikawa nearly flinched when he realized that it was his own heartbeat that was being monitored. Next to the heart monitor, a woman was standing, wearing scrubs that would imply that she was a nurse, going over something on a clip board. 

But that didn't make any sense! He wouldn't- He couldn't be in a hospital. There's no way Father would ever take him to one no matter what- Even if he was so sick he could die- even if he begged and pleaded and promised to behave. He would never, he would just take Oikawa to one of the many masters who had medical training, who wouldn't ask any questions. 

He couldn't- this had to be a trick. 

Yeah, right! Just like the time a few years ago, where Father gave him that rifle! Father was testing him, testing to make sure that he'd bahave. Soon, Father would walk into the room- he'd walk in and he'd commend Oikawa for behaving. Maybe he'd take OIkawa to the garden again- Maybe he'd even let him sit out in the grass for a while tonight and watch the stars- oh how he missed the stars. 

But to be rewarded, he would have to be good- he'd have to show his loyalty to Father- He couldn't let himself fall for this trick.

The nurse didn't notice that Oikawa was awake until he went to sit up. 

"Oh, Oikawa-san, you're finaly awake! If you don't mind, I'd just like to run a few tests." 

Oikawa complied. He had to be good- He had to show Father that he coud behave. 

Oikawa sat there patiently as the nurse checked his heart-rate, nowhere near astonished to find that most of the medical equipment in this room seemed to be real- Father sure had enough money to afford this sort off thing- even for just a test.

It didn't take long for the nurse to finish all of her tests, and as she turned away from him and back to her clip board, he figured it was okay now- he had behaved well enough- he could ask to see Father now. 

"Can Father come in now?" Oikawa asked, voice rough from his dry thoat. "I would like to see him- to show him how good I've been." 

The nurse looked at him with a confused gaze. "Your... father?" She glanced down at her chart. "I'm sorry, but it says here that your father is on his way here from Miyagi. You'll have to wait to see-" 

The door flew open, and Oikawa and the nurse both jumped, Oikawa hurrying to tun his face into a bright grin- To be good, to smile as Father always tells him, because-

"Fa-"

Two forms stood in the door instead of one, two people who made Oikawa's heart falter in his chest and his eyes widen. 

It wasn't Father. 

Oikawa's gaze fell over emerald eyes, over dark skin and messy hair and a muscular frame, a small scar at the corner of a temple from falling out of a tree as a child- those ever-frowning lips and thick eyebrows and-

No- He couldn't. Oikawa wouldn't fall for it. It wasn't Iwaizumi- It was just someone who looked a lot like him. It wasn't- it couldnt be- 

This was a trick, a test by Father, one to test his loyalty, to make sure he wouldn't try to leave. This was just another part of it- Because Iwaizumi couldn't- He couldn't be here. He was gone- he was dead- Oikawa had seen him die; had seen him get shot twice in the kneecaps- hit over the head with a baseball bat multple times as Okawa had cried and screamed- he had been forced to watch it over the monitor Father had been put in his room-

It had broken him. 

"Wha-" The not-Iwaizumi stepped forward into the room, approaching with slow, careful steps. 

Oikawa stood, backing away from the door and the man before him, didn't even flinch when the IV in his arm was ripped out by him retreating too far away. The not-Iwaizumi seemed to realize Oikawa's fear, and backed away, looking almost pained. 

Oikawa continued to back away, until he hit the wall, sinking down, eyes never leaving that oh-so-familiar face 

"You're not- You can't be..." Oikawa closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself before snapping them back open. "Bring me Father, please. I don't know who you are- and I don't care. The test is over, bring me Father-" 

All three of the other people in the room stared at him in confusion. The nurse, the not-Iwaizumi and the man who had entered behind him- his face familiar but something he couldn't currently place. 

"Oikawa-" The man with Iwaizumi's face spoke. "The doctors said you might be a bit confused at first- We know a lot must have happeed to you while you were missing; But you're here now. You're in the Tokyo general hospital- You're safe here-" 

It was a lie- He had to be lying- keepig up the trick even though OIkawa knew it was over- did he think Oikawa was stupid? 

"Stop lying to me!" Oikawa demanded, falling to his knees on the ground. "You- you expect me to believe you?! Do you think I'm stupid? I know this is a test- I know it!" Oikawa's breath was growing heavy, strained, his heart pounding and he slowly became aware of various pains in his body. His ribs, his right leg, his shoulders and back. "Bring me Father, I know he's just outside the door-" The not-Iwaizumi stepped towards him again, and Oikawa reared back, hitting his head againts the tiled wall. 

"Oikawa," the man spoke stepping closer yet again. Why wasn't he listening?! Oikawa was doing what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be good, supposed to ask about Father, supposed to wait for him to come so he could take Oikawa for his reward- Why didn't this man understand that?! "Oikawa, listen to me-" 

"No!" Oikawa nearly wailed, lifting his hands up to cover his face. He couldn't look at those eyes anymore- they hurt him, They were too beautiful and bright and brought back too many memories, and he just couldn't look at them any longer. "Please- Please just go get Father- I'll be good, I promise!" 

"Oikawa, look at me," That deep rumbly voice spoke, sounding too much like the one Oikawa had always loved, if not a little sadder, a little bit more tired. "Oikawa, you know me. You know, me, right?" The man was so close to him now, kneeling down in front of him close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of his body and onto Oikawa's. He was so close- and Oikawa just wanted to fall against that chest to wrap his arms around that man and bask in his warmth and the and safety of being held by him- but he couldn't- He couldn't because it WASN'T HIM- It wasn't Iwaizumi- "Tooru-" 

And Oikawa snapped his head up to look at him, because in all this time- nobody, not Father or any of the masters or madames or even any of the others ever called him by his given name- It wasn't allowed in any circumstances. So- why would they say it now, unless it really was-

"You're not Hajime-" Oikawa spoke, almost desperately, because he couldn't stand the thought of Iwaizumi having been alive all this time. "I saw him die- I saw him get beaten to death by Father's men- He used him- He used him to break me- Please don't do this to me!" 

The man looked at him with kind, sad eyes. beautiful eyes, ones Oikawa had wished would never cry or be sad. "I don't know who you saw die, Tooru, but it wasn't me, I promise." When Oikawa didn't believe him, he held up a hand. "Look at my index finger, Tooru. Do you see the scar there? You remember that? It's from when I tried to make you milkbread for your twelfth birthday and cut my finger open; had to get four stitches, but at least you liked your gift." Oikawa's eyes widened, staring at the little, white, faded scar. 

"This scar," Iwaizumi pointed at one on his elbow, "I know you remember this, from the time we thought it was a great idea to try throwing knives to hit targets in your backgard with Makki and Matsu." Iwaizumi seemed to smile softly, fondly. 

Seeing that Oikawa was starting to believe him. He tilted his head and pointed at his temple. "See this one? Do you remember?" 

Oikawa did- he remembered so clearly. He remembered- remembered how Iwaizumi had gotten all of these scars, all of the ones that were on the body before him- all of the scars that showed that this was him- that this was his Hajime. 

"Ye-yeah." Oikawa murmured, shoulders slumping. "We were eight. I- I thought it was a good idea to climb a tree, but once I was up there I realized that I was terrified of heights. but- you- You came up and got me- But of course, silly Hajime-chan fell out of the tree while trying to be a hero."

"See? It's me. You know me. Whoever you saw die, it wasn't me. Okay?" Oikawa turned his gaze away, thinking, but then nodded. Iwaizumi grinned, but then his eyes watered, and tears fell over his cheeks. "Tooru, I'm so sorry-" Iwaizumi apologized, speaking in that deep voice Oikawa loved so much. "I'm so sorry we didn't find you sooner- that we let this happen to you. I- I'll never forgive myself for this-" 

Oikawa jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi's waist, falling against his chest, allowing tears to streak his cheeks too because he was here- he was back. He was in Iwaizmi's arms where he belonged, after all this time, after what could only be years of waiting, of crying at night, of being hurt and used and punished for every little mistake. He was here, with Iwaizumi, with his Hajme. 

He could never be mad at Hajime. 

"It's okay-" Oikawa cried into Iwaizumi's shirt, as arms came up around him and held him close, careful of the injuries that Oikawa didn't remember recieving. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I'm- I'm so, so happy." 

\----

As Iwaizumi held Oikawa tightly in his arms for the first time in five years, he couldn't help but marvel at how much he had changed. 

Upon first sight, Iwaizumi's first thought was just how thin Oikawa was, how pale he had become. He could see the bones in OIkawa's shoulders and arms much more than should be physically possible, his legs in a similar state. Iwaizumi knew that if he caught a glimps of him under his hospital gown, he probably would be able to see each and every one of his ribs... The thought sickened him. 

Other than his weight, there was still so much that had changed. His hair was long - much longer than Iwaizumi had ever seen it - and fell around his ears and neck in soft - and natural - curls. What Iwaizumi could see of Oikawa's body was covered in bruises, cuts, and scars, many of which looking as though they may be burn marks; marks which specifically looked as though they had been left by a cigarette. Some of the scars were white and faded, barely visible from the years of being ingraved into his skin. But many of them were quite new, still a faded purple in some places. 

The sight of them made Iwaizumi want to vomit. 

Just what had happened to Oikawa?

Iwaizumi wanted to punch himself, beat himself over the head with a baseball bat; He wanted to punish himself for allowing this to happen to the man he loved, to Oikawa, the one person whom he promised he would protect all those years ago when they were children. He broke his promise, and this was what happened because of it. 

He was the reason Oikawa looked so frail, so defeated, so broken. 

Yet here he was, crying and hugging Oikawa as if he was the one in pain, as if he had any right to be sad when it wasn't him who had been through all these terrible things. Oikawa had probably seen - hell, he had probably gone through - things Iwaizumi could never even imagine. Oikawa had suffered, and here Iwaizumi was, crying as though he even had the right to be upset. 

Iwaizumi wiped a way his own tears with the back of his hand, running the other though Oikawa's hair in a soothing manner; something he had done hundreds of times before the brunet had gone missing. He waited for Oikawa to calm down a bit, until his cries were nothing more than soft sniffles before he helped him to stand, his legs shaky from either the shock of being safe, or from the injuries that covered his body. 

Iwaizumi helped Oikawa back into the hospital bed, waiting for the nurse to reinsert the IV before grabbing one of the two chairs in the room and taking a seat. He was close enough that he could support Oikawa if he needed it, but not so close as to make him feel trapped. Daichi - who had waited patiently for them through everything, god bless him - took a seat next to Iwaizumi, though a little bit further back. Iwaizumi fought a thankful smile; They didn't want OIkawa to feel crowded, especially with what it was that they were about to ask him. They had no idea how hard it would be for him. Iwaizumi figured it wouldn't be easy; these types of conversations with victims never were, but seeing how Oikawa had reacted just by seeing Iwaizumi when he entered the room, he realized it may be more difficult than he thought, moreso than he had prepared himself for.

Thankfully, Daichi didn't leave Iwaizumi alone in this. He smiled warmly - reassuringly - at Oikawa, offering him the bottle of water he had grabbed from the vending machine before they came into the room. Oikawa eyed it warily, as if he thought that maybe Daichi had put something in it. 

"It's fine, I promise." Daichi assured, understanding Oikawa's thoughts from the expression on his face. "I haven't even opened it, so there's no way there could be anything in it."

Oikawa took after a moment of hesitation, opening the still sealed cap and taking a small sip. Seeming to decide it was alright, he took another long gulp. 

"Thank you, uh..." 

Daichi smiled. "Sawamura Daichi," He responded warmly. "It makes sense that you don't remember me; it's been a long time since we've seen each other." 

Oikawa easily recognized the name, and with that, many memories that he had nearly forgotten about came back to him; Highschool in their third year. They had gone against his team in volleyball quite a few times; they had a rivalry of sorts. 

"Captain-kun?" Oikawa asked, unsure. If he was remembering correctly, that was the nickname he had for Daichi at the time. 

Daichi snorted. "Uh, yeah." 

Oikawa smiled, and then shifted in his seat. 

"Uhm, why are you here?" He asked softly. "Not that I don't want to see you two! But... Shouldn't police be here to talk to me? If I... really am safe, that is..."

Iwaizumi and Daichi both glanced at each other, casuing Oikawa to tilt his head in confusion. 

"We are police." Iwaizumi said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a badge to show Oikawa. Daichi did so as well. Oikawa's eyes widened, and he stared at Iwaizumi in disbelief. Last time they had been together, Iwaizumi was going to university to become a physical therapist. Had he changed hs career plan after Oikawa went missing? 

"I joined the force before Iwaiumi, and was put on the case when you went missing. When he joined just over four years ago, I managed to get him on it too."

Oikawa nodded, knowing there were so many questions that he needed to ask, but knowing that now wasn't the time. 

"Oikawa, we need to ask you a few questions, okay?" Iwaizumi asked, and Daichi brought out a notepad, pen, and a small recording device which he set on the table. "I know now isn't the greatest time, and that you're tired and need some rest, but it's important that we get as much information as possible from you while it's fresh."

Oikawa nodded, fists clenching in his lap. 

He was still overwhelmed by everything that had happened to him in the last hour. Realizing that he was out, that he was home. Discovering that Iwaizumi was alive, had been searching for Oikawa all this time while Oikawa had belived Iwaizumi was dead. It was all too much and he didn't know how much information he could give. Because now, even with all the torture and beatings and terrrible treatment, Father had been the one who had taken care of him for the last five years, had fed and clothed him and gave him a place to sleep and out of all of the torture, he had treated Oikawa so gently, like a beloved pet, and Oikawa had learned to be loyal to him. 

Iwaizumi noticed his discomfort and - though he didn't know exactly what Oikawa was thinking - he reached out and put his hand over one of Oikawa's clenched fists. Oikawa seemed to relax almost instantly; There was something about Iwaizumi's touch that had always been so soothing to him. Just knowing that Iwaizumi was there with him physically, touching him and reassuring him was enough to help calm him down even in the worst of times. 

"Oikawa, you don't have to tell us anything you're not ready for. If a question is too much for you to handle, or you don't know the answer, just let us know and we can skip it for now." Iwaizumi gave Oikawa's hand a reassuring squeeze. The brunette nodded, gnawing on his upper lip nervously.

"Okay, so," Daichi glanced momentarily at the pad of paper - where the questions they had for him were written-, before speaking again. "Do you remember the night you were abducted?"

Oikawa hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, kind of. We went out for a date that night; we went to dinner and walked around looking at the christmas lights together." 

Daichi hummed, writing something on the pad of paper. "Iwaizumi told us about that when he was brought in. He was the one who had called in telling us you were missing."

Oikawa remembered that night so clearly; They had such an amazing time together, as they always had on the rare occasions that they had enough time in their busy schedules to actually go on a date. They had planned their date night for the eighteenth of December specifically, as the next day they had plans to take a train back to Sendai to spend the holidays with their families. This was the last night they'd have alone together before they were swept up into the hustle of the holiday season.

"Oikawa, before you were taken, me and you split up; You said something about needing to make a stop on the way home, but didn't want to tell me where. Do you remember that?" Iwaizumi questioned him gently, calloused thumb running over the soft skin of Oikawa's hand. 

Oikawa nodded. "I was going to pick up a gift I had commissioned for you from a shop by our apartment. I didn't want you to see it before christmas so I... I went alone to pick it up." 

"We found your belongings in an alley by your apartmenet; There wasn't anything that looked like a gift; Just your phone, wallet, etc, and some broken glass nearby." Daichi explained to him. 

"B-broken glass?" Oikawa asked, voice gone hoarse from the lump in his throat. "Was the glass green?" 

Daichi nodded, and Oikawa's breath hitched as he had to choke back a sudden sob. 

That gift; the figurine he had spent months working overtime to be able to afford- It was shattered to bits. He had spent hours corresponding with the artist who he had commissioned it from, had spent months dreaming about how excited Iwaizumi would be when he saw it, when he set it down on their crappy little coffee table in the livingroom and watch the lights bounce off the shiny green surface of the figurine, watch it cast green over the room so that everything in the vicinity matched the colour of Iwaizumi's eyes. 

"I-" Oikawa lifted his hands to cover his face as he hiccuped a sob, a memory suddenly coming back to him. 

He remembered cutting through that alleyway on the walk home, wanting to get there as soon as possible so he could hide his gift and spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Iwaizumi. He remembered the cold biting at his skin, snow seeping into one of his favourite boots from where the souls were detaching from the rest of the material. 

He had his gift for Iwaizumi clutched tightly in his gloved hands, the large godzilla figurine in a strong stance, roaring up into the sky as though it was ready to conquer the world. It reminded him so much of Iwaizumi; The monster himself always had, ever since they were children. Oikawa hoped Iwaizumi thought the same. 

Oikawa remembered a van pulling up at the mouth of the alleyway just ahead of him, and Oikawa watched, confused as two men stepped out. He couldn't make out their faces in the dark of the night, but he knew that nothing positive would come from this encounter. 

"Uhm, I really need to ger through here, so would you mind possibly moving your car?" Oikawa had requested, trying to sound friendly and unthreatening; These men looked dangerous, and he instinctively backed away when one of them approached him.

"Hey, dude. Seriously, I need to get through. So would you mind just-" The man reached for him, and Oikawa reared back, narrowly dodging the man's grasp. "Hey, what the fuck!" Oikawa backed up when the man swung at him with a fist. "I'm not trying to start anything, just let me go past-" Then the second of the two men was there, grabbing him and pushing him back against the wall. Oikawa struggled as though his life depended on it, because he'd be damned if he let these guys do whatever they wanted to him. 

Oikawa barely noticed when his precious figurine fell to the ground, shattering to bits around his feet. he was too busy struggling against one of the two men to notice that something was being pulled from the other's pocket, was too busy fighting for his life to be able to react when something was suddenly covering his mouth and nose, a cloth that was mysteriously moist. Oikawa continued to struggled, continued to fight, to try to get the cloth and the men away from him, until he was suddenly drowsy, until his eyes drooped and his limbs felt heavy, his struggling coming to a halt as he fell back against one of the two men, quickly being rendered unconsious. 

Oikawa was suddenly brought back to the present by a hand at his shoulder, flinching and curling into himself. He was crying, sobbing into his knees. 

"Don't touch me-" Oikawa nearly wailed, trying to bat Iwaizumi's hands away from him. "I'm sorry, just- Just please, don't touch me!" 

The hands disappeared, and Oikawa curled further into himself, nails of his own hands digging into his arms cause he needed the pain; needed it to ground himself, needed it to keep himself from falling into that dark abyss of memories from the last years of his life. 

Through his tears, he heard a quiet murmur, Iwaizumi speaking softly to Daichi before there was the sound of a chair scraping against the ground, footsteps, and then the hospital room door opening and closing. Oikawa caught the soft noise of a deep breath, a long, drawn out inhale and exhale before the weight on the mattress shifted. 

Oikawa lifted his gaze upwards, peering through hazy eyes to see Iwaizumk seated in front of him. 

There was still doubt in his mind. Doubt that this was real, doubt that he was really safe. He was terrified, terrified that the second he chose to believe, that he decided to really, truly, accept that he was free, everything would go back. That he'd wake up in his room and find that it was just another one of his drug-induced hallucinations, that he would still be there, at the mercy of anybody who had a big enough wallet to pay father to use him for whatever they wished. 

"This- this isn't real." Oikawa exclaimed, rocking back and forth and dragging his nails up and down his arms. "This isn't- I'm- I'm hullucinating. Right? Yeah- I- I can't- I can't believe cause then I'll wake up. Then I'll wake up and I'll still be there and I can't do that- I can't Ican'tIcan't I just-" 

"Tooru," Iwaizumi's voice spoke, and Oikawa flinched. "Tooru, please. Look at me." 

Oikawa shook his head frantically, dug his nails deep into his arms and felt the wet sensation of hot blood dripping from the new wounds. "It's not real!" Oikawa wailed, tearing at his own flesh and rocking more violently. "It'snotit'snot it's not!" 

Hands appeared at his face, caressing over his cheeks. Oikawa reared back, trying to slam his head against the wall, but Iwaizumi stopped him by moving one of his hands to the back of Oikawa's head, letting his knuckles take the force of the hit. 

"It's real," Iwaizumi told him, and Oikawa shook his head, sobbing still as tears streamed down flushed cheeks. "I'm real, Tooru." 

"No!" Oikawa cried, pulling his hands from his arms only to try and pry Iwaizumi's away from him. Iwaizumi didn't let go, just held him more firmly. 

"I'm real." Iwaizumi said again. "If you want me to, I can prove it again." 

"How?!" Oikawa's nails halted their movements on his skin, though he still refused to meet Iwaizumi's eyes. "How could you possibly- You're not-" 

"Ask me a question," Iwaizumi cut Oikawa off, though his tone was gentle. "Ask me something that only the two of us knows. Something only your Iwaizumi knows." 

Oikawa fought the urge to rear back again, to scream because NO, theres no way this Iwaizumi could know any of those things. But Oikawa had to know. He had to know if this was real. If Iwaizumi was really here with him. 

So Oikawa nodded. He wiped at his tears with a hand that was covered in his own blood, getting it smeared just above his cheek. 

"What... What's my favourite colour..." Oikawa asked. It was a stupid question, really. But it was one that only Iwaizumi had ever known the real answer to. 

"Teal," Iwaizumi answered, and Oikawa moved to pull away. Because no. That was wrong. But Iwaizumi continued. "That's what you say to everybody, because it was our highschools team colour." Iwaizumi wiped the spattering of blood away from Oikawa's cheek. 

"But when it's just us, your favourite colour is green. Bright green flecked with bits of gold." Iwaizumi's lips curled into a soft smile. "Just like my eyes." 

And just like that, Oikawa's harsh breathing began to calm, his clenched fists relax, and he stops trying to pull away from Iwaizumi. Because he was real. This was real. 

"Real," Oikawa breathed out, let himself finally meet Iwaizumi's eyes. Let himself gaze into those pools of green and gold. "You're real." 

For some time, the two of them just sat there, Oikawa staring down at his hands in his lap. Iwaizumi would ask a question here or there. Just light-hearted things; if Oikawa was hungry, if he wanted to get some rest. Eventually, a soft beeping sound came from Iwaizumi's coat. Oikawa flinched, and Iwaizumi reached into his pocket to pull out a black phone. 

"Your family is here," Iwaizumi said, after reading the message that he recieved. "Do you want to see them?"

Iwaizumi watched Oikawa for his reaction, saw the hesitation in his expression. 

Oikawa clenched and then unclenched his fists. "I want to," Oikawa sighed roughly. "I'm just- I'm afraid they won't recognize me anymore."

"Of course they will," Iwaizumi said. "You've changed, but you're still Tooru. They would have to be fools to not recognize you." 

Oikawa took in a deep breath, then nodded. 

"Do you want me to leave and give you some time with them?" Iwaizumi asked, looking as though he was ready to leave the room if Oikawa requested it. 

"No!" Oikawa sat up abruptly, reached forward and grabbed Iwaizumi's sleeve, before realizing what he was doing and backing away again. "You- I know you're real. If- If you leave-" He sucked in a sharp breath, exhaled it roughly. "If you're not here... I may not be able to tell what's real and what isn't." 

Iwaizumi quirked a brow, but he nodded, sent a quick text before returning his phone to his pocket. 

A few minutes later, there was a short knock on the door, startling Oikawa and making him jump. Iwaizumi considered holding Oikawa's hand to sooth him, but he realized that might just make matters worse. 

"Come in!" Iwaizumi called, and the door opened to reveal an older couple, in their early fifties, holding each other close as they peered into the room. Iwaizumi had known Oikawa's parents all his life, had been there with them when they were told that Oikawa had gone missing. Oikawa's mother already had tears beading in her eyes, and Oikawa's father looked close to tears, too. Iwaizumi nearly jumped when Oikawa reached out and grasped Iwaizumi's hand, clinging to it as if his life depended on it. 

There was a split second of silence, Oikawa staring at his parents while they stared at him, before Oikawa's mother surged forward, as if going in for a hug. Oikawa flinched away, curling in on himself and letting out a high-pitched whimper. 

"Please- Please don't!" Oikawa's hand tightened around Iwaizumi's, and Iwaizumi ran his thumb over the back of Oikawa's hand, soothing. Oikawa's mom halted, before backing into her husbands chest. 

"I'm sorry, Tooru. I- I didn't mean to scare you..." Oikawa didn't respond, just buried his face against his knees and shuddered. Iwaizumi figured this meant it was his job to explain. 

"It's okay, Oba-san," He said, trying to give the best reassuring smile he could, while Oikawa was nearly breaking Iwaizumi's hand with his tight grip. "Oikawa is just really shaken up right now. He needs time to adjust before he can get used to contact again." Oikawa's mother nodded, and slumped into her husband's arms, though her gaze burned into where Oikawa and Iwaizumi's hands intertwined. 

"Hajime-kun, can we speak to you in the hallway?" She asked, and Iwaizumi nodded. 

"Tooru, I'll be right back," Iwaizumi promised, using his other hand to carefully pry Oikawa's grip off of his hand. Oikawa shook, but nodded. Iwaizumi petted over Oikawa's hair once, before standing and following Oikawa's parents out of the room. 

"What's wrong with him?" Oikawa's father asked the second the door closed behind Iwaizumi. "Why is he acting līke that?" 

Iwaizumi huffed. "Why is he acting like that?" Iwaizumi repeated incredulously as he shook his head to clear the anger that was surfacing at the lack of understanding. "He's been missing for five years, and we don't even know the full extent of the terrible things that were done to him during that time." 

"I just-" Oikawa's mother's hands clenched and then unclenched at her sides, a habit her son had picked up from her. "I just want to hold him. Why can't I hold my son?" She asked the question with a tone of desperation, tears streaking through the light layer of makeup that always coated her face. 

"He's been through a lot," Iwaizumi said, "When I went in there, he didn't even believe that I was real until I proved it to him." Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head. "He needs time. Time to recover and try to get back to the real world." 

"What should we do?" Oikawa's father asked, wrapping an arm around Oikawa's mother and pulling her close again. 

"Stay in town," Iwaizumi told them. "He probably wont be able to see you again today. There's so much going on around him and he's going to need time to rest." Iwaizumi glanced through the window on the hospital room door. Oikawa was still in the same spot as before, hadn't moved an inch. "I'll call you if he asks to see you again before he leaves the hospital."

Oikawa's mother took a breath, looked as though she wanted to say more, but she nodded. "Okay," She sighed. "Okay." 

After a few minutes of saying goodbye, Oikawa's parents left to go check in at their hotel. Iwaizumi didn't head back into Oikawa's room right away, went to the food court first and bought something for Oikawa to eat. When he came back, Oikawa had laid down on the hospital bed, had curled up on his side with the blanket over his head. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Iwaizumi asked, looking down at the package of milk bread and mug of tea he had managed to score. "It's milk bread." 

There were a few moments of silence as Iwaizumi moved back to the chair he had been sitting in earlier, before Oikawa shook his head. Iwaizumi stifled a sigh, placed the food down on the table and leaned back into his seat. 

"Are they... mad at me?" Oikawa asked, meek and soft, a few minutes later. His words were muffled by the blanket, but Iwaizumi heard him perfectly. 

"No," Iwaizumi said. "They're not mad at you." 

"Then- why did they leave?" 

Iwaizum sighed, tried to consider what to say. 

"Because they love you," He said, finally. "They love you, and want to give you time to rest. To get better." 

A few seconds of silence. 

"Do you love me?"

Iwaizumi nods. "Of course I do. Always."


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had waited until he was sure Oikawa was asleep before he even dared to pull out the blue file, not wanting to risk another meltdown. He didn't want to look through the file; not at all. But he knew he had no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add the second chapter today just so you guys have more to read. I hope you enjoy!

"He's not going to a mental hospital!" Iwaizumi exclaimed, trying to hold back his anger even as it seeped out of him in waves. "Just give him time!" 

Irihata sighed, stamped his cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk. 

"He's been in the hospital for almost a week, Iwaizumi. Since then, he's yelled at four nurses for 'trying to hurt him', hasn't eaten a single meal, and cries any time someone so much as goes near him." Irihata closed the file in front of him, and slid it into a drawer. "He's healed enough that he can't stay there anymore, and we don't have anywhere else to send him. We can't just send him out into the world like this." 

"Send him home with me!" Iwaizumi said, completely serious. "He responds well to me. We were engaged before he went missing, and we've known each other all our lives. I'm still in the same apartment; The familiarity will be good for him." 

Irihata raised a brow at him. "Are you sure about that?" He stood from his seat, walked around the desk so that he stood directly in front of Iwaizumi. "I get it. When he went missing, you lost your fiancé, and have been working on this case to get him back since." Irihata leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. "But this isn't the same Oikawa Tooru that he was five years ago. He isn't your fiancé anymore. You can't just expect to be able to jump into bed with him and rejoice in your reunion." 

Iwaizumi scoffed. "I know that, Irihata-san." He clenched his fists at his side. "I know he's different. I know he's hurting, and that I can't expect things to go back to the way they were. I just-" Iwaizumi inhaled a deep breath. "No matter what, I want to be here for him. I want to help him get better." 

"He needs me, Irihata-san. I'm not just saying that, either." Iwaizumi said. "He told me- It's easier for him to figure out what's real when I'm there. I can help him." 

Irihata sighed, eyes boring into Iwaizumi, as though he were considering. Finally, he nodded. 

"You have a month, Iwaizumi," Iwaizumi got ready to argue, but Irihata continued. "Focus on helping him get better. Do what you need to do. Take the month off work. But once you come back, I expect you to be ready to pry all the information you need to out of his head." Irihata pushed off the desk, moved back to his seat. "He's all we have, and we need to find the ones who took him. I can't give you anymore time than that." 

Iwaizumi nodded, before giving a little bow. "Thank you, Irihata-san." 

Irihata nodded, and Iwaizumi turned towards the door. Before he could leave the room, Irihata called out to him one more time. 

"Iwaizumi," Irihata said. Iwaizumi looked back to him, a brow quirked. 

"Yes?" Iwaizumi looked down, realized Irihata was holding out a blue file, thick and stacked full of papers. 

"This is what we have." Iwaizumi returned to the desk and took the file into his hands. "We think the man who took Oikawa- 'father', Oikawa called him - is the leader of a sex trafficking ring that operates out of several countries. We don't have anything concrete, but I think finding out what Oikawa knows could change that." 

Iwaizumi nodded. 

"Thank you, Irihata-san." 

\----

"Iwa- I don't- I don't think I can do this." Oikawa stared out the window of the police car, at the tall brick building that had once been his home. "I- What if someone grabs me? What if- What if we don't make it inside in time?" 

Iwaizumi reached for Oikawa, before stopping himself and returning to the drivers seat. 

"It's just like when we left the hospital," Iwaizumi said. "We made it to the car just fine, didn't we?" 

Oikawa nodded. "But that- That wasn't really outside. We were in a parking garage. And- and that one man was staring at me! What if he was one of father's men?! What if he followed us here?" 

Oikawa was already starting to hyperventilate, to pick at the sleeves at his new jacket out of inability to scratch at his covered arms. Iwaizumi had to calm him, and fast, or he'd have a full blown panic attack right here. 

"Hey, hey," Iwaizumi said, trying to be as soothing as possible. "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" Oikawa's breath hitched, but after a moments hesitation, he nodded. 

Iwaizumi gently grabbed Oikawa's hand in both of his, running his thumbs along the back and warming the cold skin. 

"You'll be fine," Iwaizumi told him. "If you want, I can hold your hand all the way inside. No one will grab you. Not while I'm here." 

Oikawa took a shuddering breath. "But- But what if someone has a gun? What if they shoot you?" 

"I'll get them first," Iwaizumi promised. "I'm a police officer, remember? I carry my gun with me whenever I'm on duty. And, since I'm just getting off a shift, I still have mine." 

Oikawa sucked in a harsh, ragged breath, his hand shaking in Iwaizumi's. 

"Okay," Oikawa nodded, after a brief pause. "Okay. Let's do it." 

Iwaizumi gave a soft smile, turned the car off, and unlocked the doors. "Ready?" He asked Oikawa, and after a moment, the brunet nodded. 

Iwaizumi pushed open the door on his side, stepped out, and was quick to close it. He came around to Oikawa's side, opened the door, and held his hand out for Oikawa to take. Oikawa grasped Iwaizumi's hand tightly in both of his own, stepped out of the car on shaky legs. He clung to Iwaizumi's hand with all the strength he had in his tired body, his head whipping back and forth as he made sure nobody was approaching them with any hidden weapons. When Oikawa deemed it reasonably safe, he followed Iwaizumi into the building, moving faster than necessary out of a sense of fear. 

Luckily, it was only a few minutes before Iwaizumi was unlocking the door of what was once their shared apartment. Oikawa was a little bit overwhelmed by the nostalgia of it all. He never thought he would come back here, never thought he would see Iwaizumi again, never thought he would be safe. 

"I'm sorry about the mess," Iwaizumi said as they stepped into the apartment. "I've been too busy with work to really clean anything. I'll try to get it done soon." 

Oikawa nodded, though he didn't really hear what Iwaizumi had said. He stepped into the apartment, eyes roaming around what was once his home. Everything was mostly the same; The furniture hadn't moved an inch since he left, and most of Oikawa's old knickknacks were still there, as if Iwaizumi hadn't ever thought to get rid of them. 

The only difference, really, was how dark everything felt. All the curtains were closed, and all the lights were dimmed, as if Iwaizumi was never really here. Iwaizumi had never been much of a clean person, but the messy state that the apartment was in was a whole new level for him. 

The table in the centre of the livingroom was covered in loose paper and various coloured folders, and Oikawa figured they were from work. What drew his attention was the thick blue folder sitting on top of everything else, with Oikawa's name written in the corner. 

"I-Iwaizumi," Oikawa spoke, voice strained. He didn't even realize he had let go of Iwaizumi's hand to walk further into the apartment. "What's that folder?" 

Iwaizumi looked up from where he was slipping out of his shoes, seeing where Oikawa was looking. "Oh, that's the folder for your case," He said casually, not picking up on the stiffness in Oikawa's shoulders. "The boss gave us a bit of time before we really have to go over anything, but he wanted to make sure I have all the info I need." 

Oikawa froze. 

Iwaizumi... was using him. 

Bringing Oikawa back to their apartment had nothing to do with wanting to be close to him again, or wanting to take care of him. He just wanted to get information from him. 

Iwaizumi lied to him. 

Oikawa felt like he was going to barf. 

"You-" Oikawa clutched at the fabric of his shirt, trying to claw away the sharp pain in his heart. "You're using me to get information?!" Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi, tears stinging in his eyes. "How could you?!" 

Iwaizumi shot up to his full height, eyes wide at the realization that he had been caught so soon. 

"Oikawa- No, what are you talking about? I would never-" 

"Stop lying to me!" Oikawa yelled, chest heaving. "You- You keep lying! You say that I'm safe! That nobody will hurt me! That YOU, of all people, won't hurt me! But-" Oikawa backed away as Iwaizumi stepped towards him. "You're just using me to find Father! You're using me so that you can hurt him!" 

Iwaizumi- He was a liar! He was going to hurt Oikawa! Going to use him to find Father, and then abandon him!

"Oikawa, please listen to me," Iwaizumi took another step closer, and Oikawa backed into the wall. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Tooru. You know that. You know I could never hurt you." 

Oikawa was going to puke- He could already feel the bile rising in his throat. But he had to- He had to hold it back. He couldn't make a mess. That would make Iwaizumi mad. Then Iwaizumi would hurt him. Iwaizumi would punish him for making a mess. 

"I-" Oikawa wheezed, clawing at his throat. 

Oikawa ran. 

He didn't mean to. His body was already moving before he'd even made the decision. He didn't know where he was going, not really, until he was yanking open the bedroom door and slamming it shut behind him, turning to lock it even though he hadn't heard any footsteps behind him. 

Oikawa didn't bother to look around the room and mentally catalogue all of the ways it had changed. He sank onto the bed, curled up on his side. 

Don't puke don't puke don't puke.

Oikawa sucked in deep breath after deep breath, trying to keep himself together. He scratched at his wrists underneath the sleeves of his coat, looked down and found his eyes trailing over the back of his right hand, finding the little scattering of fading burn scars there- 

A searing pain in his flesh, the feeling of another cigarette pressing against the back of his hand. 

Oikawa cried out, eyes clenching shut from the pain. But he didn't lift his hands from the floor, knew the punishment would only worsen if he disobeyed now. 

"You've been such a bad boy." Father's voice reached Oikawa's ears, from where he was seated just a few feet away at the table. "I told you what to do. You could have done it easily. But you just had to be a bad boy and misbehave." 

"I- I'm sorry!" Oikawa cried, shaking when the cigarette was once again pressed against the back of his hand, only a few inches away from the last burn. "He was just so scared! I- I couldn't hurt him! I'm sorry!" 

"That was your job," The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, footsteps, and then a shadow came over him. "You were supposed to break in the new boy for me. You want me to be happy, don't you?" 

"Yes!" Oikawa cried. "Of course I do! I... I just-" 

"'You just', what, baby?" Father asked, kneeling down just in front of Oikawa. Oikawa still kept his hands to the dingy floor, didn't reach for Father, no matter how badly he craved the man's touch, his affection. 

"Were you jealous, baby?" Father asked, voice a bit softer now. "Jealous because, if you broke him for me, then he would be the one gaining my affection?" 

Father was right. He had to be. He was always right about Oikawa. 

Another burn was pressed into Oikawa's skin, and he wailed. "Yes!" He cried, forehead pressed against the cold tile. "I was jealous! I- I want to be the only one who you take care of!" 

There's a smug noise, and then a hand stroking over his hair, before coming down and grasping his chin. Oikawa's head was lifted, and Oikawa looked up through tear-filled eyes, to see the face of the person who took care of Oikawa best. 

Father stroked over Oikawa's cheek, a gentle carress. Father was always gentle with Oikawa, never hurt him like his men did. Father didn't like hurting Oikawa, not his baby. He could never hurt the boy who was so precious to him. 

But Oikawa had to be punished. Father's men were always the ones to punish him. Sometimes, they burned him, hit him, cut him. Sometimes they pushed him onto the floor and kicked him until he blacked out. But not Father- No, Father was kind. Father was safe. Father never hurt him. 

"Stop," Father said to the man who had been burning Oikawa. The searing pain disappeared, leaving behind a dull ache. "Bring that needle over here." 

The man obeyed, and soon Oikawa was being made to sat up. Oikawa shook, kept his gaze firmly on Fathers face, on the gentle smile of Oikawa's master. 

"I'm going to make you feel better now. Okay, baby?" Father said, and Oikawa nodded. Father grabbed Oikawa's arm, grip rough but not harsh. There was a sharp sting of pain as the needle was buried into the flesh on the inside of his elbow. A strange, uncomfortable pressure. And then, numbness. 

Complete, utter numbness-

Oikawa was awoken by the feeling of a hand stroking over his hair, warm and gentle as it ran through the long strands. Oikawa cracked his eyes open, found that he was still in Iwaizumi's bed, but now the door was open, and Iwaizumi himself was seated just a few inches away. 

"Wha-" Oikawa sat up abruptly, startling Iwaizumi, who had seemed to be lost in thought. 

"How did you get in here?" Oikawa asked, voice surprisingly raspy. He shifted away from Iwaizumi, pressed himself into the corner. "I- I locked the door." 

"I have a key," Iwaizumi explained. "I came in to see if you want something to eat, and I got distracted." 

Oikawa pressed himself further into the corner, trying to keep himself calm. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," Iwaizumi said. "I should have explained this situation to you better." 

Oikawa didn't respond, just watched Iwaizumi with an untrusting gaze. 

"I'm a police officer now," He reminded Oikawa. "And I'm working on the case of your kidnapping, trying to figure out what happened to you." Iwaizumi paused, and Oikawa nodded to show that he understood. 

"My boss- He said that you couldn't stay in the hospital anymore. At least, not as a regular patient." Iwaizumi sighed. "He wanted to send you to a mental hospital, to try and help you get better." 

Iwaizumi took in a deep breath. "I didn't want you to be sent away. Mental hospitals aren't necessarily bad, but I don't think they should be used as a first attempt to help somebody," Iwaizumi said. "I asked if you could come home with me; I think being here - somewhere that was really familar to you before you were taken - will be good for you, that I can help you get better." 

Iwaizumi paused again. "There was one condition, for me being able to take you home." Iwaizumi gestured to the door. "You have a month to be here, to try and heal up as much as possible. Then, we have to start working on the case. So that we can find the ones who hurt you." 

Iwaizumi... wasn't using him? Iwaizumi was trying to help him? 

The realization made Oikawa feel guilty, made him dig his nails into his knees to keep from shaking. 

Oikawa had been bad. 

He'd yelled at Iwaizumi when it wasn't necessary- He- he was mean to Iwaizumi. He called Iwaizumi a liar. 

Oikawa was bad. 

Iwaizumi was going to punish him. 

"I made dinner," Iwaizumi said, snapping Oikawa out of his thoughts. "Are you fine eating in the livingroom? Or do you want to stay in here?" 

Oikawa shook his head. "I-I can't eat." He said. 

Iwaizumi quirked a brow at him. "Why not?" 

Wasn't it obvious? "I- I can't eat without Father's permission. Only bad boys eat without permission. I- I can't-" Realization finally struck Oikawa, and he clenched his fists. 

"Ho- How did I get away?" He asked Iwaizumi. "I- I left him!" Oikawa shook, brought his legs up to his chest. "I- I left without permission! Oh, Father is going to be so mad at me! I- I'm going to be punished- I- I can't-" 

The pitch and volume of Oikawa's voice rised with every word, until he cut himself off with a panicked sob. Iwaizumi jumped forward, grabbed Oikawa by the hands before he could scratch himself again. 

"You're okay," Iwaizumi told Oikawa. "You're safe here. Father won't- he can't hurt you here." 

"Father- Father never hurt me!" Oikawa struggled to pull away from Iwaizumi. "He- He never hurt me- I- He never hurts his baby!" Oikawa ripped his hands from Iwaizumi's grasp, hunched over and started tugging mercilessly at his hair. 

"I- I've been bad- I've been so bad and I have to be punished for it! I don't- I don't want to be punished!" Oikawa wailed. 

There were hands at Oikawa's face, on his cheeks, tilting his head up to meet Iwaizumi's gaze. 

"You're okay," Iwaizumi said urgently. "You're safe; nobody is going to hurt you." 

Oikawa thrashed, tried to pull away again, but Iwaizumi's grip remained firm. 

"Tooru- Tooru, look at me-" Iwaizumi nearly begged. Oikawa heaved a breath, but obeyed, his grip on his hair going slack. 

"Let's talk about something else, okay?" Iwaizumi suggested, "Let's go to the livingroom, watch a movie or something? We don't have to talk about Father; We don't even have to talk at all, if you don't want to."

Oikawa inhaled a deep breath, then another, trying to calm himself. After a few moments, he managed to pry his hands away from his hair, dropped them to his lap. 

"Okay," Oikawa said, barely above a whisper. "That- that doesn't sound too bad." 

Iwaizumi nodded, eyed Oikawa carefully for a few more moments before pulling his hands away from the brunet's face. 

"Come on," Iwaizumi climbed off the bed, and Oikawa followed, pausing to finally slip out of his jacket and shoes before following Iwaizumi to the livingroom. 

"I cleaned up while you were asleep," Iwaizum told him, and Oikawa nodded. "I remember that you used to hate how bad I am at cleaning, so sorry that it's not all that great." 

Oikawa looked around, finding that Iwaizumi hadn't really done much. The floors and tables had been cleared of papers and clothes, and then dusted, and the curtains were opened. The lightbulbs had been switched, and were now much brighter than before, but otherwise, the place was still a mess. 

Oikawa didn't mind. It was better than the disgusting room he had been living in until recently. 

Oikawa didn't say anything, though. He just shuffled over to the couch, stared down at it for a few moments before curling up in the corner that was once his favourite. He grabbed the blanket that was left on the back of the couch and pulled it around him. 

Iwaizumi had gone into the kitchen. Oikawa heard the sound of dishes clinking together, smelt the scent of food. When he came back into the room after a few minutes, he was holding two plates of what appeared to be stir-fry. 

"I- I can't eat-" Oikawa reminded Iwaizumi, sinking back into the couh. "I wasn't given permission- I- I can't-" 

"I'm giving you permission," Iwaizumi said, standing in front of Oikawa and holding out the plate to him. "This is my home, and I'm in charge here. So if I give you permission to eat, it has to count for something, right?" 

Oikawa considered it for a moment, and realized that he couldn't really argue with that logic. 

He tentatively reached for the plate, half expecting Iwaizumi to slap his hand away and yell at him, punish him for trying to eat. But Iwaizumi did no such thing, just allowed Oikawa to set the plate in his lap. 

Iwaizumi placed his plate on the coffee table, and moved to the cabnit on the tv stand where they kept the movies. 

"What do you want to watch?" He asked, looking through what they had. "I have some of the recent Marvel movies; I doubt you've seen them." Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa for confirmation, and the brunet nodded. Iwaizumi reached into the cabnit and picked out a movie that came out around a year after Oikawa had gone missing. He set up the movie, came back to the couch just as the previews were starting.

Oikawa only ate a few bites of his food before returning it to the coffee table. Iwaizumi was a bit disappointed by that, had hoped that he would at least eat half of his meal. But Iwaizumi wouldn't force him to eat more; It was already more than Oikawa had eaten during his entire stay at the hospital - he hadn't even touched the armfuls of his favourite foods that his parents had brought on the second day -, and he knew that pressuring Oikawa might only make him feel worse about eating. 

They didn't get far into the movie before Iwaizumi had to turn it off. 

Really, he should have considered that this was an action movie when he'd chosen it; Full of guns and violence and loud noises. 

Before Oikawa was taken, he loved action movies. He dragged Iwaizumi with him to every premier, bought special additions and posters and hung them up all over the apartment. Iwaizumi thought that this would help him, that maybe it would allow him to come back to the person he once was, at least a bit, at least for a few hours. 

But, no. It was only a few minutes into the movie before Oikawa started flinching, nails digging into the palms of his hands with every loud noise, a sharp inhale or a scared whimper following every gunshot. If it continued like this, Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa would be on his way to a full-out panic attack within a few more minutes. 

So Iwaizumi reached for the remote, shut off the movie without any hesitation. For a few minutes, they just sat in heavy silence, the only noise being Oikawa's ragged breathing.

"Sorry about that," Iwaizumi said. "I didn't think it would be that bad." 

Oikawa shook his head. "It's fine." He whispered. 

"Well," Iwaizumi stood up, trying to ease the tension in the room. "I'll clean up the dishes. You can use the shower, if you want." 

After a moment, Oikawa nodded, stood and began shuffling out of the room. At the door, he paused and turned back. 

"Uhm, I don't have any clothes," He said softly. 

"Oh, yeah." Iwaizumi grabbed the plates, began moving them into the kitchen. "Daichi made me move most of your stuff to storage last year... He thought always having reminders of you around was bad for my mental health." Oikawa stood, watching, as Iwaizumi scooped the leftovers into a Tupperware container and set it on a shelf in the fridge. "I'll go grab your clothes and bring it up. You can take the closet back, if you want." 

Oikawa nodded, whispered a small "thank you," and then left the room. 

Oikawa was just turning on the tap in the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. He opened it just a crack, found Iwaizumi standing there with a stack of neatly folded clothes in hand. 

"Here," Iwaizumi said, holding the articles out to him. "I figured you'd want something comfortable, so this is just a sweater and a pair of pyjama pants." Oikawa nodded, took the clothes into his hands, careful not to brush Iwaizumi's hands with his own. 

"How long do I have?" Oikawa asked, voice soft, unsure. 

Iwaizumi quirked a brow. "How long...?" 

"In the shower," Oikawa explained. "I always... I have a time limit. How long?" 

"Take as long as you want," Iwaizumi said. "Don't worry about using up the hot water; I already showered this morning before I picked you up from the hospital." 

Oikawa nodded, waited to see if Iwaizumi had anything else he wanted to say before shutting the door, placing his clothes on the counter. 

\----

Don't look don't look don't look don't-

Oikawa exhaled a shaky breath, staring pointedly at the wall in front of him as he ran a soaped-up cloth over his body. He couldn't look, couldn't bare to see the state he was in as he washed himself. 

It wasn't just the mutilation his body had suffered that made it hard to look. It was everything. 

It was the visibility of his ribs, the knobby-ness of his knees. It was the jut of his hips and the apendages in between them, the body part that Oikawa had always been disgusted by. It was the knowledge that, if he looked at his back in a mirror, he would be able to see every single one of the bones in his spine, would be able to pinpoint exactly where his scapula connected to his collarbones. 

He could see it all, and it was disgusting. 

Oikawa tried not to think about it, instead focused on the fact that Oikawa actually had soap, that he was finally able to properly wash his body. He had never been given soap before, not in years. For a moment, Oikawa thought that maybe Iwaizumi hadn't meant for Oikawa to be able to use his soap. That Iwaizumi would be mad at him for it. But, Iwaizumi wouldn't have left it there if he didn't want Oikawa to use it. 

Oikawa tried to be quick in the shower, tried his hardest to not use up all the hot water despite Iwaizumi saying it was okay. He was quick to wash his body, quick to shampoo and then rinse his hair. When he stepped out of the shower, he patted his body dry with a towel without looking at it, and then dressed. 

After pulling the hoodie Iwaizumi had gotten for him over his head, he found himself staring in the mirror. 

The hoodie Oikawa was wearing had once been his favourite. He had, originally, stolen it from Iwaizumi back in their early years of college. It had always been big on him, made him feel warm and small and safe. But now, with all the weight Oikawa had lost in the last five years, he looked as though he was swimming in fabric. 

Well, more like drowning. 

When Oikawa stepped back into the livingroom a few minute later, Iwaizumi was going through one of the files that he had moved to the desk in the corner of the room. Oikawa mentally noted that it wasn't the blue one Oikawa had seen earlier, the one with his name on it. 

"Oh, hey," Iwaizumi greeted when he noticed Oikawa standing by the door. "How was your shower?" 

Oikawa shrugged, tugged on the end of his too-long sleeve, "It was okay." He said softly. 

"Where..." Oikawa paused, thinking. "Where should I sleep?" 

He half expected Iwaizumi to tell him to sleep on the ground, that that was where he belonged. But Iwaizumi quirked a brow, as though it were obvious. 

"You can have the bed," Iwaizumi told him. "I don't sleep much anyways," Iwaizumi closed the file he had been looking at, attached a loose piece of paper to it with a paper clip and returned it to the stack. "I'll just crash on the couch if I get tired." 

Oikawa eyed Iwaizumi for a few moments, looking almost concerned, before nodding. 

"Okay," Oikawa said. "Then... goodnight." 

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa the strongest smile he could muster, though it wasn't much. 

"Night." 

\----

A few hours later, in the earliest hours of the morning, Iwaizumi still sat at the desk in the corner of the livingroom. 

He had waited until he was sure Oikawa was asleep before he even dared to pull out the blue file, not wanting to risk another meltdown. He didn't want to look through the file; not at all. But he knew he had no other choice. 

Iwaizumi forced himself to go through the pictures, first; To look at what he thought would be the hardest for him to handle, and then go from there. The first few pictures were of the alleyway Oikawa had been found in. He'd already been moved by the time these pictures were taken, but his blood had yet to be washed away. There were traces of it on the ground, leading up and into the dumpster where Oikawa had been left. 

The pictures after that were of Oikawa himself, ones the police had taken of his body for evidence. They had been taken the second day in the hospital. Oikawa had panicked, at first, when he had been asked to strip down for the officers to take pictures of him. He had calmed down, though just a bit, when Iwaizumi promised him that they wouldn't touch him, that they wouldn't hurt him. They were just doing their jobs. 

Then, Iwaizumi got to a series of documents, all reporting - in detail - Oikawa's various injuries, both old and new. There were descriptions of well over a hundred burn marks all over his body, various cuts, and even cracked ribs that had healed a long time ago. The thought of people - nameless and faceless beings, in Iwaizumi's mind - hurting Oikawa, cutting him and hitting him and burning him, filled Iwaizumi with rage. 

But that wasn't the worst part. No, there was more. On the last document - written in messy handwriting from the doctor who had checked Oikawa over -, was just a few words, that changed everything. 

Evidence found of recent sexual intercourse. 

Just that alone made Iwaizumi want to barf. 

Iwaizumi had predicted that something of the sort must have happened to Oikawa. He'd been in caltivity for five years, for fuck sakes. And Irihata had said that the ones who had him were part of a sex trafficking ring. Iwaizumi shouldn't be surprised. He should have prepared himself for this. Just- The thought of someone laying his hands on Oikawa like that. Not just someone besides Iwaizumi, but anybody at all. 

Before Oikawa went missing, he was known to be firmly asexual. Completely sex repulsed. While Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been together for years, they had never had sex. Had never gone all the way. The most they had done was Oikawa sitting nearby while Iwaizumi touched himself, or Oikawa jerking Iwaizumi off while distracting himself by watching TV. And the only reason he had ever done any of that was that he was afraid that Iwaizumi was unsatisfied with their relationship, that he didn't want Iwaizumi to go looking for sexual gratification from somebody else. 

Of course, Iwaizumi never would have done that. He loved Oikawa and loved the relationship they had. It didn't matter to him that they never had sex. He was happy with Oikawa and he never wanted to pressure him into anything he didn't want. 

So the thought of someone - of anyone - touching Oikawa in a way he was uncomfortable with, in a way even Iwaizumi had never dared, made Iwaizumi want to vomit. 

It also made him want to bash a few skulls in, but he wasn't going to dwell on either of those feelings. 

Deciding that he'd seen enough for tonight, Iwaizumi stood from his seat, closing the file and placing it at the bottom of the stack. He had the next month off work, so he figured he should at least try to get some rest. 

Iwaizumi made his way down the hallway, to the bedroom. He still had to grab a change of clothes and a pillow from the closet. He didn't want to disturb Oikawa, but he also didn't want to have to add a crick in his neck to the list of pains he experienced each morning. 

The door was locked when he got there, and Iwaizumi wasn't all that surprised. Oikawa knew Iwaizumi had a key, but locking the door must have made him feel safer. Iwaizumi fished the key out of his pocket, figuring that he could just lock the door again on his way out.

Iwaizumi opened the door slowly, careful to try and keep the hinges from creaking. When he stepped into the room, all the lights were off aside from the small lamp on the bedside table. Oikawa was curled up on his side, the blanket pulled around him and covering everything but his face. Oikawa's expression was more relaxed than Iwaizumi had seen him in weeks, though his body was still stiff. 

Iwaizumi moved to the dresser, finding himself a simple pair of sweatpants and a shirt to change into before going to sleep on the couch. He was just going to the closet to find one of the spare pillows when his phone went off in the back pocket of his jeans, loud and startling. 

"Shit," Iwaizumi whispered, grabbing the device from his pocket. Before he could even check who was calling, Oikawa's eyes were blinking open, long lashes fluttering against pale cheeks. 

"Iwa...?" Oikawa let out, voice soft and hoarse. He sat up on his elbows, looking at Iwaizumi with brows drawn together. "What are you doing?" 

"I just came in to grab myself a pillow," Iwaizumi explained apologetically. "Sorry. Go back to sleep." 

Iwaizumi grabbed what he came in for, carried it and his change of clothes out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He managed to catch the call on the last ring, lifting the phone up to his ear. 

"Hey," Iwaizumi greeted, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment and seeing Daichi's name on the screen. "If this is about a case, I should probably remind you that I'm off for the next month." 

There was a soft snort on the other end of the line as Iwaizumi walked down the hallway and into the livingroom. "Nah, nothing like that. I was just getting up, figured you'd still be awake." 

Iwaizumi nodded, then remembered that Daichi couldn't see him. "What's this about?" He asked, plopping the pillow down on the couch and using his shoulder to hold his phone in place while he changed into the sweatpants he'd grabbed. 

"I was just wondering how things are going with Oikawa," Daichi said casually, though Iwaizumi heard the twinge of concern in his tone. "How is he?" 

"To be expected," Iwaizumi sighed, pulling the sweatpants up over his legs and tying the string to keep them from falling. "Hates being touched, startles at every loud noise. You know, the usual victim stuff." 

Daichi huffed, obviously having heard the strain in Iwaizumi's voice. 

"Has he said anything?" Daichi asked. "About what happened to him? About that 'Father' guy?" 

Iwaizumi slipped into his new shirt, sat himself down on the couch. 

"Yeah, a bit." Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair, stressed. "I think he - whoever he is - had - maybe even still has - a strong sense of control over Tooru." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oikawa freaked out earlier," Iwaizumi explained. "Almost had a panic attack because he thought he was going to be 'punished', or something." Iwaizumi picked up his pack of smokes and lighter from the coffee table, tapped one out of the pack and brought it to his lips. "I told him that 'Father' wouldn't hurt him here, and he flipped. Yelled that 'Father' would never hurt him." 

Iwaizumi flicked his thumb over the lighter, brought out a flame. He inhaled deeply while holding the lighter to the end of the cigarette. 

"Do you think that's true?" Iwaizumi heard a noise on the other end of the line, the sound of a door opening and closing. "About 'Father' never hurting him, I mean." 

Iwaizumi blew out a puff of white smoke. "I don't know. It doesn't really seem like Tooru's in the best state to describe something like that, and be accurate." He takes another puff. "Maybe that was one of the ways he controlled Tooru? Having others hurt Tooru while making himself seem like a protector." 

"Maybe," Daichi hummed. "I've heard about it happening before. It causes this Stockholm Syndrome type feeling in the victims. Maybe that's what's going on with Oikawa?" 

Iwaizumi sighed, took another drag, blew out white smoke and watched it curl in the air in front of him. 

"Do you want me to talk to Suga?" Daichi asked "I heard Oikawa didn't react all that well to the therapist at the hospital. Maybe Suga could help?" 

Suga; The nice, pretty receptionist at work. He'd gone through all of the training to become a certified therapist, had only ended up working as a receptionist out of a need for money. 

"I'll think about it," Iwaizumi said. "I think Oikawa needs time to settle in here first; forcing him to talk to someone when he isn't ready might make things worse for him."

Daichi hummed affirmatively. "I'm gonna go; I'm just getting to the precinct." Iwaizumi took a final drag and stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. "You should get some sleep." 

Iwaizumi snorted, "Yeah, okay." After a few more moments of mild chatter, Iwaizumi hung up, dropped the phone to the coffee table and slumped against his pillow, hoping to at least get a few hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment? I live for your feedback!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga stepped away from the door, reached into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out a little grey audio recorder. He looked to Iwaizumi with something indecipherable in his eyes. 
> 
> "We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I forgot how much I love this chapter until I edited it today.
> 
> Warning: There is flashbacks of abuse and talks about being raped and beaten. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! You'll get a little more insight into what happened to Oikawa in this chapter! Please make sure to leave a (hopefully long) comment at the end, even if it's just incoherent screaming. It'll motivate me to finish the next chapter sooner, and you may get to meet Kyoutani!

"Fuck, isn't he a pretty one." Oikawa knelt on the hardwood floor, hands shaking where they pressed against the cold, smooth wood. 

He heard a sniffle next to him, became aware of the others kneeling on either side of him. One, a muscular blond male Father had brought in a few months ago, back when Oikawa was still fighting back, when he was still rebellious. The other was a young girl, couldn't be any older than sixteen. Maybe fifteen. She had yet to be broken. She still cried when they hit her, still protested when the men came to her with needles and promises of feeling good. 

Oikawa pitied her, just a bit. She didn't know what it was like, to be a favourite. To be the one that Father doted on and took care of. 

"Yes, he sure is." A hand petting through Oikawa's hair, making Oikawa flinch. His mind was fuzzy, head swimming from whatever he had last been injected with. "He'll cost more than the others, though. He's a special one." 

Oikawa didn't really understand what they were saying. They were speaking in english, he thought. He caught a word here and there; nothing substantial. Nothing that told him where he would be spending the night. If he would go back to his room and curl up on the dingy tile floor, or if he'd be dragged to the home of somebody else, to be used and fucked and played with and brought back to Father tomorrow. 

He kept his head down, kept his hands to the floor like a good boy. He'd learned what happened if he disobeyed. It was only a few short minutes - or maybe longer? He couldn't be sure, with the mind-muddling drugs still swimming through his system - before the grip in his hair tightened just a bit, and his head was pulled up, forced to look at Father's current company. 

"Say 'hello', baby," Father said, voice taking on a gentle tone as he switched back to speaking in Japanese. "This is your master for the night. Are you going to be good for him?" 

Oikawa gave his best charming smile, though his bottom lip wobbled with the pain in his head, still remaining from the last time he had been beaten. 

"Hello, Master," He greeted.- 

"Tooru," A voice broke through Oikawa's mind, deep and smooth. "Tooru, are you okay?" Oikawa shook his head to clear it, just enough that it didn't make his head swim, make his ears ring and the backs of his eyes sting with a sharp pain. 

Iwaizumi was standing in front of him, thick brows drawn together in confusion. 

"Are you okay?" Iwaizumi repeated. "You completely spaced out." 

Oikawa swallowed, nodded his head. "I'm fine, Iwaizumi," He said softly. "I was just thinking." 

Iwaizumi looked down with a contemplative curl of his lips. Oikawa followed his gaze, finally remembered what he had been doing before he'd spaced out. 

Right. Sorting. 

He looked down at the little pile of change in front of him and frowned. He'd noticed Iwaizumi had a habit of just emptying his pockets of change all over the apartment. There was some on the coffee table, on the dining room table, on the kitchen counter. 

Oikawa had to sort it. 

"What are you doing?" Iwaizumi questioned. Oikawa shrugged as if it were obvious. 

"Sorting." He whispered. 

Oikawa separated the change by type, each coin separated into little piles by how much they were worth. That wasn't enough. That wasn't good. 

He picked up four of the smallest coin, stacked them together neatly. He picked up another four of the same, stacked them next to it. He did that with two more stacks, until they made a square-ish shape. Then he stacked another four a little ways away, continued until he had three squares of stacks of four, looked down at the three leftover coins of this type in his palm. 

That wasn't good. No, no. Four was good. Four was safe. Not three. 

Oikawa raised his eyes, panicked, not sure what to do with these three coins. They didn't belong. he couldn't put them in a stack. 

Iwaizumi held out a hand, and Oikawa breathed a sigh of relief. He dropped the bad coins into Iwaizumi's hand, only let his shoulders relax once the coins were out of sight, tucked away in Iwaizumi's wallet. 

Oikawa moved on to the next type of coin, this one slightly larger. He repeated the process over and over, panicking for a moment whenever he had bad coins left over. Three wasn't good, no; He couldn't make a stack of four. Neither were five, or six, or seven. They were bad. Eight was good, though not as good as four. Oikawa liked twelve. Twelve was good. And sixteen made him smile. 

Four was good. Four was safe. 

Oikawa wasn't sure when he'd first started sorting, when sorting became his way of holding back his anxiety, his fears, the bad things in his mind. He hadn't done it like this before; Back when life was better. 

Better? No, that wasn't it. 

Back before he met Father. 

He liked sorting then, back before he and Father got together. Sorting was good. Iwaizumi was always messy; Oikawa's sorting kept things clean. 

But Oikawa didn't remember when sorting became something he needed to do. Something that kept him good, and safe. He didn't remember when four became good. When everything else became bad. 

When Oikawa didn't have objects to sort - money, sometimes different coloured thumbtacks when he had them - he would count. Sort with his mind. 

One, two, three, four. 

One, two, three, four, eight. 

One, two, three, four, twelve. 

One, two, three, four, sixteen. 

It kept him calm. Kept him from lashing out when hands that weren't Father's touched him. Because, if he lashed out, then he was bad. Father would be mad at him for hurting a customer. Oikawa would have to be punished. 

So he counted. Muttered numbers under his breath when gross, disgusted hands crawled up his legs. When lips that made Oikawa wanted to barf pressed against his throat. 

One, two, three, four, twenty. 

"Crazy fucking bitch," A rough voice would say, when Oikawa counted to keep the fear away. "He's lucky he's pretty, or I wouldn't even bother." 

One, two, three, four, twenty-four. 

Four was good. Four was safe. 

Oikawa finished sorting, looked down at the last two coins left in his hand. Iwaizumi didn't hesitate this time, held out his hand for Oikawa to drop the coins in. 

Oikawa smiled. 

Four was good. 

\----

"How is Oikawa?" Suga asked when Iwaizumi came by the office the next day, just to pick up a few files from Daichi. While Iwaizumi was off work, Daichi had requested that Iwaizumi at least help out a bit with some of the cases they were working on. He could do it on his own time, though. He didn't have to feel pressured to get things done at lightning speed, like usual. 

"He's doing okay, I think," Iwaizumi said, leaning against the counter Suga sat behind. "He gets confused sometimes, spaces out and seems to forget where he is or what he's doing." 

Suga nodded, understanding. "It makes sense," Suga reached for a document that came out of the printer next to his computer, skimmed his eyes over it before handing it to the other receptionist, who sat a few feet away in her own section of the counter. "He's been locked away for five years. It's probably hard to accept that he isn't there anymore." 

Iwaizumi tapped his knuckles against the counter. "He's also picked up some... strange habits." 

"Strange?" Suga asked, head tilting sideways. 

Iwaizumi nodded. "He's been... sorting things." He shrugged, not really sure how to explain what he'd witnessed the last few days. "He's always liked sorting, keeping things neat and tidy. But this seems... cumpulsive. Like he doesn't have any control over it." 

Suga drew his brows together, thinking. "Maybe it helps him stave of the anxiety. Keeps his mind occupied." He picked up two of the scribbled-on stickynotes that had been pressed on to the side of his computer screen, crumpled them in his fist and dropped them into the trash. "Do you want me to come by and have a talk with him? I could help him get some things off his chest, maybe help him be able to communicate with you more." 

Iwaizumi sighed, and nodded. "Yeah, that would be great," He said. "I'm going have to talk with him first, though, so he doesn't panic."

Suga bobbed his head in a little nod. "Of course," His expression turned into a cheeky little smile. "Now go get those files. Daichi will get mad if I keep you here any longer." 

Iwaizumi smiled, saying "bye" and giving a little wave as he made his way down the hallway. 

\----

Oikawa was shaking. 

Shaking, shaking. His hands shook, and he couldn't stop them. His shoulders shook, his legs shook, his entire body shook. 

Iwaizumi- Iwaizumi wasn't here. Where did he go? Why did he leave Oikawa alone? 

Oikawa was hungry. So, so hungry. He needed Iwaizumi to give him permission, to promise that he wouldn't be punished if he ate. 

When was the last time Oikawa had eaten? The night he had left the hospital? That seemed like it was so long ago, now. A week? Maybe longer? 

Why? Why did he refuse food every time Iwaizumi had offered it to him? Why had he done this to himself? His stomache ached. He hurt, so so badly. He needed food. 

Oikawa stumbled to the kitchen, breath ragged, clutching at his pained stomache. Even with Father, Oikawa never went this long without eating. Within the first few months, maybe. But once he became a good boy, Father fed him almost every day. Gave him food as a reward for being a good boy. 

Oikawa came to a stop in front of the fridge, hesitated with his hand clutching the handle tight. 

What if Iwaizumi got mad at him? What if he was only allowed to eat when Iwaizumi said he could? If he ate now, it would make Oikawa a bad boy. He didn't want to be bad. Didn't want to be punished. 

But he needed food. He didn't want to hurt anymore. 

Oikawa's hand shook so hard he barely managed to get the fridge door open. He peered inside, scared that Iwaizumi would come home at any moment and punish him for even thinking about eating. Oikawa found a container of noodles, covered in white sauce that looked absolutely delectable. He remembered Iwaizumi offering them to him the night before. 

Iwaizumi couldn't punish Oikawa if he ate something that was originally meant for him, right? 

Oikawa grabbed the container. 

He didn't bother using the microwave to heat up the noodles before eating them. He didn't know if he'd have time before Iwaizumi came home. He was too hungry to wait, anyways. He just grabbed a fork from the rack of clean dishes and dug in. He rushed back to the bedroom, where he felt safe. 

He was just finishing eating when he heard the sound of the front door opening. Oikawa panicked, tried to find somewhere to dispose of the plastic container out of fear of Iwaizumi discovering what he'd done. He heard Iwaizumi call out to him in greeting, but he didn't respond, too busy trying to hide the evidence that he'd eaten. 

A knock on the bedroom door made him jump, made him let out a pathetic little whimper. 

One, two, three, four.

"Tooru, are you okay in there?" 

Oikawa clenched and unclenched his fists, shuffled side to side on his feet and forced out a weak, "I'm fine, Iwa-chan!" 

The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open. Oikawa panicked- Nonono, Iwaizumi couldn't come in here! Oikawa hadn't been able to hide what he'd done! Nononono Oikawa doesn't want to be punished-

Iwaizumi stepped into the room, caught sight of the container in Oikawa's shaking hands. Iwaizumi raised a brow. 

One, two, three, four, eight. Calm down.

"Did you eat the pasta from last night?" Iwaizumi asked, and Oikawa's shoulders shook. 

He couldn't- He had to tell the truth. Lying only made the punishment worse. 

Oikawa nodded, hunched his shoulders and curled in on himself, just a bit. 

"M'sorry." He whispered. 

There was a confused noise from Iwaizumi, and he stepped further into the room. Oikawa flinched, waiting for the blow he was sure would come. 

One, two, three, four, twelve. 

He felt sick. Like he was going to bow over and puke up everything he'd just eaten. But he couldn't- No, puking would make a mess all over the nice carpet. Making a mess would just make the punishment worse- 

"I'm not mad," Iwaizumi said, making Oikawa's shoulders jump. Iwaizumi looked almost relieved. "I've been getting worried about you, wondering why you're not eating." 

Iwaizumi took a step closer, and Oikawa flinched back, dropping the empty container without meaning to. 

Iwaizumi was lying. Liar. He was pretending. Pretending to be kind and pretending to care. The second he got close enough to Oikawa, he was going to grab him by the hair and slam his head against the wall. Oikawa knew it, wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. 

One, two, three, four, sixteen.

His head hurt, so, so badly. Why won't it go away? Why won't it stop?

Iwaizumi took another step closer, picked up the container from where it had fallen to the floor. Oikawa stepped back again, hugged himself and hunched over, eyes squeezed shut. 

He was going to puke- no, no he couldn't. He couldn't make a mess. Iwaizumi would be mad. Iwaizumi would hurt him. He couldn't-

Oikawa puked. 

A gross, awful retching noise filled the air as Oikawa keeled over, clutching at his stomach in pain as the meal he had just eaten poured from his mouth, tasting disgusting, like bile. His shoulders shook, his headache became stronger. All he could think as he emptied his stomach onto the carpet was that he was bad. He was a bad boy. He should have held it in. Should have been good. Iwaizumi is going to punish him for sure now. 

Once he was done, Oikawa fell to his knees, right into the pile of sick, the puddle of his own puke. 

"I'm- M'sorry-" Oikawa dug his nails into his arms, tried to keep his shoulders still; tried to keep himself from shaking. "I'm so sorry! I- I'll clean it up- I promise!" 

Oikawa waited for the blow, waited for a hand to grab him by the hair and slam him down to the floor, into his own mess. He waited for a foot to come up and kick him in the ribs, send him sprawling across the carpet. It didn't come. All that happened was the disgusting feeling of his puke seeping through his pants. 

It made him retch again, though this time his stomach didn't have anything left to let out. 

There was more moments of silence, where Oikawa kept his head down, waited for the blow that didn't come. Then, Iwaizumi was next to him, a clean, moist cloth in hand. 

"Here," Iwaizumi said softly. "Do you want me to do it for you, or are you okay to do it yourself?" 

Oikawa just shook, not knowing what Iwaizumi meant. There was a hand at his chin, gentle, warm. Iwaizumi lifted Oikawa's head, let out a soft soothing noise when Oikawa flinched. 

"It's okay," Iwaizumi said, voice gruff but soft as he brought the cloth to Oikawa's face, started wiping away the puke that had made its way onto his cheeks and chin. "You're okay, Tooru." 

Was he? Was he really okay? 

Iwaizumi was being so soft, so gentle. It made Oikawa's throat itch, made his hands want to reach up and claw at his face, force him away. It was too much- The gentleness was too much. The soft tone of Iwaizumi's voice grated at him, made him want to curl up and cry. 

Oikawa just sniffled, let Iwaizumi clean his face and neck with careful, gentle strokes. 

"There, all done," Iwaizumi smiled softly as he pulled the cloth away from Oikawa's face, patted Oikawa's moist cheek gently. "Why don't you go shower and change? I think you got a bit in the ends of your hair." 

After a moment of staring blankly, Oikawa nodded, and stood. 

"I'll have tea ready when you're done," Iwaizumi said. Oikawa whipped his head back towards Iwaizumi.

"Tea...?"

Iwaizumi nodded. "You still like tea, right? I bought some on the way home." 

Oikawa nodded, turned and rushed to the bathroom on shaky legs. 

When Oikawa got there, he just stood there for a few minutes, a single thought running through his head. 

Iwaizumi didn't punish him. Iwaizumi didn't hurt him. Iwaizumi helped him, cleaned him up, let him shower. Iwaizumi was making him tea. 

Iwaizumi was good. Iwaizumi was safe. 

One, two, three, four. 

Oikawa turned on the shower, waited until the water was scalding hot before he even dared remove his clothes. He didn't want to look at his body. His body was gross. Gross and covered in puke. Gross and defiled and dirty. 

Oikawa washed his hair first, scrubbing at his scalp until it hurt, until the hot water made the top of his head burn. Then he moved onto his body, scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin was red and raw, didn't stop scrubbing a spot until he saw a bead of red, dark, blood. Then he moved on to the next spot, over, and over and over. 

He still wasn't clean, was still gross and dirty. 

But Oikawa had to step out of the shower. The water was getting cold, and the cold would just make him feel worse. 

Oikawa stepped out of the shower, patted himself dry with a towel. He couldn't put on his dirty clothes- No, that would make him even dirtier. So he wrapped the towel around him, prayed that he wouldn't run into Iwaizumi in the hallway, and ran to the bedroom. From there, he quickly changed into a new hoodie and sweatpants, only realized that the sweatpants weren't his when they hung low on his hips, when his ankles weren't completely covered by fabric. 

He shrugged. Iwaizumi wouldn't mind, right? They had been in Oikawa's clothes, meaning Iwaizumi probably hadn't worn them in a long time. Before he left the room, he glanced over at where he'd made a mess earlier. Iwaizumi must have cleaned it up, but there was still a lingering smell. The carpet would probably be stained there forever. 

He shuddered. 

Oikawa shuffled his way out of the bedroom and to the livingroom, heard the sound of a kettle going off. The noise grated at him, made him clench his fists and dig his nails into his palms. 

"Hey," Iwaizumi greeted when Oikawa stepped tentatively into the kitchen. He was standing at the counter, pouring hot water from the kettle into two mugs; One pure black, the other bright blue with polka dots. It wasn't hard for Oikawa to guess which one was for him. "Why don't you grab a seat on the couch? I'll bring the tea out in a sec." 

Oikawa didn't hear Iwaizumi, too busy staring at the lit cigarette in between chapped and cracked lips. Then he was caught up in the memory of cold, harsh laughter; The feeling of a cigarette burning into his back, his chest, his thighs; Laughter that just grew stronger when he begged for them to stop. 

Oikawa didn't realize he was shaking until there was a hand grabbing hold of his, pulling him out of those memories with a gentle touch. Oikawa snapped his head up, found Iwaizumi looking at him with concern in his eyes. 

"Oikawa," Iwaizumi let Oikawa pull his hand away, didn't seem even slightly offended by it. "Did you hear what I said?" 

Oikawa shook his head, looked down and away. He found himself scratching at the backs of one of his hands, where the rough skin of circular burn scars still made him feel like throwing up. Iwaizumi followed Oikawa's gaze, seemed to notice the scars for the first time. 

"Shit," Iwaizumi muttered. Iwaizumi stepped back, took a final puff from his smoke and then stamped it out in an ashtray. "Sorry, Tooru. I didn't think about it." 

Oikawa shook his head. It's fine. It's fine. They were in Iwaizumi's home. Iwaizumi could do whatever he wanted.

"I'll try to avoid smoking around you," Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa's tense shoulders relaxed with relief. He wasn't mad.

Iwaizumi turned, spooned the teabags out of the mugs and dropped them into the trash. Then he moved to the fridge, grabbed a carton of milk, and poured a heavy amount of it into the blue and white mug. He spooned two spoonful's of sugar into it, and Oikawa found himself wondering how Iwaizumi remembered; how he'd remembered how Oikawa liked his tea. 

Oikawa hadn't had tea in years. 

He missed tea. 

"Let's go to the livingroom, yeah?" Oikawa nodded, followed Iwaizumi as they stepped into the other room. Oikawa curled up in his spot on the couch, knees to his chest, and accepted the mug when it was handed to him. The outside of the mug was hot, and Oikawa loved the way it heated his cold and shaking hands. 

"So, there's something I want to talk to you about," Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa froze the motion of bringing his mug up to his lips. 

Iwaizumi wanted to talk. Talking is never good. No, no. Nonono. 

What did Iwaizumi want? Surely, he must want Oikawa to repay him for being able to stay in his apartment? Right? Iwaizumi wanted to play with him. Wanted to use him and touch him and- nonono no he couldn't do that. 

Oikawa tried to calm himself, focused on counting the white dots on his mug to keep himself from panicking. 

One, two, three, four. 

calm down, calm down. 

One, two, three, four, eight. 

Calm down, calm- 

"I have a friend at work," Iwaizumi continued, seemingly not noticing how panicked Oikawa was. Maybe he was hiding it well? He hoped so. "He's a registered therapist. He said that he'd like to come talk to you. Maybe help you get some stuff off your chest." 

A man wants to come talk to him? Nono that's not good. What if it's like the last time? The last therapist? The one from the hospital; No, Oikawa couln't trust him. That man knew Father. Was one of his clients from a few years ago. If he told him anything, Father would know where he was. He wanted- He wanted Father back, but didn't want Iwaizumi to be hurt. He didn't trust Iwaizumi, but didn't want him to be hurt. 

Didn't want him to die again. 

"Oikawa?" Oikawa lifted his head, but avoided Iwaizumi's gaze by staring pointedly into the steaming mug of tea in his hands. "Is that okay with you?" 

Oikawa didn't know what to say. He should- He should at least think about it, right? Ask questions, decide from there? 

Yeah. He should do that. That's what Iwa-chan would have done. 

"I-" Oikawa took a deep breath, counted more dots. "What's his name?" He asked, voice no louder than a whisper. 

"Sugawara Koushi," Iwaizumi said, taking a sip from his tea. "But everybody at work just calls him Suga." 

Suga. Like sugar, sweet. Suga must be sweet. Or maybe the nickname was ironic. 

Oikawa hoped it wasn't ironic.

"Is he..." Oikawa clenched his eyes together tight before opening them, finding it hard to think. He was so tired. So tired and just wanted to curl up and sleep. "Is he nice?" 

Iwaizumi nodded. "He's one of the nicest people I've ever met. I think you two will get along well. It would be good for you to have another friend to talk to." 

Another... Friend? Another... 

Right. Oikawa forgot. He and Iwaizumi are just... friends.... now. They aren't fiancés anymore. They aren't together. 

Yeah. Maybe Oikawa would like to have another friend. 

But only if he could trust Suga. 

"Okay," Oikawa whispered. "I- I'll meet Suga." Then he stood, shuffled out of the livingroom and back to the bedroom without looking back. 

\----

Two days later, Suga came over right after leaving work, a small bag on his shoulder. 

"Hey," Iwaizumi greeted as he opened the door. Suga stepped inside and toed off his shoes. 

"Wow, the place actually looks clean," Suga marvelled with a laugh. Iwaizumi frowned. 

"Yeah, yeah. I know I turned into a bit of a slob for a little while. Hardy-har." Iwaizumi led Suga to the kitchen. 

"How is he, today?" Suga asked, fiddling with the strap on his bag. "You said yesterday was a bad day?" 

Iwaizumi nodded, and sighed. "The other day- I think he had a panick attack because he thought I was mad at him? He ended up puking all over the carpet in the bedroom." 

"Why did he think you were mad?" Suga leaned against the counter. 

"Because he ate leftovers from the night before," Iwaizumi said. "I think- There's something about food with him. I think it was - metaphorically speaking - hung over his head as a reward, taken from him if he was bad. He always waits for permission to eat." 

"Hmm," Suga considered that for a moment. "And how was yesterday?" He asked. 

"He locked himself in the bedroom all day," Iwaizumi said. "I dont think he even came out while I was grocery shopping. Even to use the washroom. He just... hid." 

"And today?" 

"Same thing," Iwaizumi told him, looking frustrated. "I'd be surprised if you managed to get him out here to talk to you." 

Suga shook his head. "No, I'm not going to force him to leave the room." Iwaizumi drew his brows together. "The bedroom is where he feels safest," Suga explained. "If I drag him out, he's just going to panic. It's better if I go in there with him, somwhere he's comfortable." 

Iwaizumi nodded, understanding. "Do you want to head in now?" 

"Yeah, sure." Iwaizumi led Suga down the hallway and towards the bedroom. Iwaizumi knocked on the door, and there was a small sniffle and a quite call of "come in". 

"You should wait out here," Suga said to Iwaizumi. "Usually, I'd ask other people to leave so they don't overhear anything... but," Suga sighed. "Whatever he has to say, I think it's important that you hear it." 

Iwaizumi nodded. "I'll sit out here," He said softly, waited until Suga opened the door and stepped inside before taking a seat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. 

\----

Oikawa was sitting in the corner of the room, a blanket wrapped tightly around him. He had woken up a few hours ago, head trapped in memories of hands grabbing at him and cigarettes burning into his flesh. He'd crawled to the corner, where he felt the safest, and curled up, crying and shaking until he tired himself out. 

Now, the door opened, causing light from the hallway to filter into the otherwise dark room. The man who opened the door was about average height, but looked small in comparison to the terrifying figure Oikawa had expected, like a monster coming out from underneath a childs bed. Sugawara Koushi was pale, pretty, and soft by all meanings of the word. Oikawa found himself being made jealous by his perfectly unmarred skin, the same type of skin that Oikawa once had. 

"Hi," Suga greeted politely as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. His figure was just barely made visible by the small amount of light streaming in through the curtains. 

"Hi." Oikawa whispered back, hands shaking as he tugged the blanket tighter around himself. 

"Do you mind if I turned on the light?" Suga asked, voice soft and polite. 

Oikawa shook his head. "The... the lights hurt my head," He murmured. "There's a lamp next to the bed." 

Suga nodded, walked over to the nighstand, fumbling just a bit until he manage to find the little round switch that allowed him to light up the room. Oikawa's eyes stung at the warm light, and he forced himself to look away. 

"Can I come sit next to you?" Suga asked. Oikawa shuddered at the thought. He didn't want to sit next to Suga. What if Suga tried to touch him?

Oikawa shook his head. 

"Okay," Suga said, not sounding mad or even irritated. He sat himself on the edge of the bed, a few feet away.

"Did Iwaizumi-san tell you why I'm here?" Suga questioned, hands rested in his lap. Oikawa nodded. 

"To... So... I could talk about things..." Oikawa whispered, fingers tightening around the edges of the blanket so he wouldn't start to scratch. 

Suga nodded, gave a kind smile. "And did you think of anything you wanted to talk about?" 

Oikawa shook his head. "...No." 

"That's fine," Suga told him. "How about, I ask you a question, and you just answer? Is that okay with you?" 

He was going to ask questions? Nono no that wasn't good. No. He was going to ask about Father. Going to ask where he was. And he'd tell Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi would tell his boss and- and then they'd go hurt Father! They'd take him and hurt him and it would be all Oikawa's fault! Nonono no, no. 

Oikawa's shoulders shook, and Suga seemed to sense his panic. 

"You don't have to answer anything you don't want to," Suga said quickly. "Okay?" 

Suga- Suga wasn't going to force him to answer? Good. That's good. He doesn't have to talk about Father if he doesn't want to. Good. Maybe Suga isn't as bad as Oikawa thought he was. 

After a few moments, Oikawa managed a jerky little nod. 

Suga's smile brightened. 

"Okay, how about we start with something simple." Suga shifted so that he was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed. "How do you like living with Iwaizumi-san?"

Oikawa shrugged, curled up a bit tighter. "It's okay." He murmured. 

"Is it like how it used to be? Before?" 

Oikawa shook his head. 

"How is it different?" 

"We're not..." Oikawa blinked. "Together..." On the last word, his voice lowered back to a whisper. "I don't... I don't trust Iwaizumi."

"Why don't you trust him? Has he done something to hurt you?" 

Oikawa shook his head again. 

"I just don't trust him." Oikawa said. "He's different. He's not Iwa-chan." 

"How is Iwaizumi not Iwa-chan?" Suga quirked a thick brow, looking a bit confused. Oikawa curled in on himself further. 

"Iwa-chan is gone," Oikawa whispered, hands clenching and unclenching. "Iwaizumi... He's too... sad to be Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan was good. Safe." 

"So Iwaizumi-san and Iwa-chan are two different people?" Suga asked, concern in his voice. 

Oikawa nodded. "Yes," Then he shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. "...No." 

Oikawa didn't know how to explain it, wasn't even sure if he wanted to. All he knew was that Suga's gaze was piercing into him, making him feel the urge to bare his very soul to the man. Oikawa wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Thankfully, Suga spoke up before Oikawa started trying to elaborate on his thoughts. 

"Iwaizumi-san said that, when you first saw him in the hospital, you said that he wasn't him. Because you thought he'd died. Do you remember that?" 

Oikawa shook his head, clenching his eyes shut repeatedly snd trying to remember. Oikawa's first few days at the hospital were still blurry in his mind. He remembered pain, remembered crying on the floor. He remembered Iwaizumi talking about something - a scar? He wasn't quite sure - and then he remembered his parents, looking sad and distraught when they came to visit him. 

"I... I don't know," Oikawa whispered, unable to stop himself from scratching at his forearm. "I don't- I don't remember." God, why doesn't he remember? He should! It was only a few weeks ago! 

Oikawa buried his face against his knees, pulled at his long hair in frustration. 

"Hey, hey. How about we talk about something else?" Suga reached forward, pressed what he probably meant to be a reassuring hand to Oikawa's knee. Oikawa jolted away, chest heaving. 

One, two, three, four. 

Oikawa counted his breaths, forced them to slow so that he wouldn't fall further into panic. 

"I brought something for you," Suga told him with an uncertain smile. He reached into the bag that was slung over his shoulder. "Iwaizumi-san said you like sorting, right?" He pulled out a clear plastic bag, full of small, colourful circles. "I figured it would be good to have something you could carry around with you."

Suga held out the bag to Oikawa, and Oikawa stared, eyes wide with shock. He hesitated, but reached for the bag with a tentative hand. Just as he was about to touch it, he pulled back, sure that this was some sort of trick. But Suga just smiled. He stretched out his arm further towards Oikawa, and the brunet grabbed the bag and drew his hand back quickly, pulled it to his chest.

"What are they?" He whispered, examining the little transparent circles. There were four colours; Red, blue, green, and yellow. Oikawa felt himself relax a little at that.

"I think they're meant for bingo," Suga explained. "As an alternative to using a dabber."

Oikawa nodded, opened the bag and pulled out one of the green circles, watching the way it reflected the dim light from the lamp. 

"Can I...?" Oikawa looked down at the floor, before returning his gaze tentatively back to Suga. 

"Go ahead," Suga said with a friendly smile. "They're all yours."

Oikawa adjusted so that he was on his knees, sat the bag on the floor next to him. Suga watched intently as Oikawa pulled out another three green, counting softly under his breath. He stacked them together neatly and placed them on the carptet, before reaching for another four green. 

"How do you decide how to sort things?" Suga asked, the question coming off casually. 

Oikawa glanced up at Suga for a mere moment, before returning to his stacking. 

"By four," He said. "Four in one stacks. Four stacks in a square. Another four stacks in a square, two squares below that to make a larger one." 

Suga stared as Oikawa did exactly as he was describing, careful that each stack was as even as he could manage on the carpeted floor as he layed them out. Suga noticed that Oikawa seemed infinitely more relaxed than before. His shoulders were no longer hunched, his hands no longer shook as badly. He'd even let the blanket he'd wrapped around himself protectively fall from his shoulders. 

"Why do you sort by four?" Suga asked off-handedly, though he was listening carefully to everything Oikawa had to say. 

Oikawa paused, stared at the stack currently in his hand for a few moments, before carefully placing it on the carpet. 

"Four..." Oikawa murmured, taking a deep breath. "Four is safe. It- Four keeps me calm. Helps me be good." 

"Helps you be good," Suga repeated, watched as Oikawa moved back further to make more room for him to place down the small pieces. "What does that mean?" 

For a few moments, it seemed as though Oikawa wasn't going to answer. One of his hands clenched tight where it was rested on his thigh. The other kept sorting. 

"When... When I was with Father," Oikawa said eventually. "I..." He clenched his eyes tightly shut for a moment, as though he were trying to organize his thoughts. "Being good was hard. There were always hands on me and- and I didn't like it." Oikawa took in a shaky breath, seemed to be sorting a bit more frantically now. "I was taught... counting can keep me calm. Keeps me good. Four is the number I chose. It's... It's the best number." 

"You were taught?" Suga tilted his head to the side. "Was it Father who taught you that?" Oikawa shook his head. "Who?" Suga asked. 

Oikawa paused again, glanced up at Suga through long eyelashes, before staring down at the hand holding a small stack. Suga realized Oikawa had begun to shake again. 

"A puppy." Oikawa said after some time. "A puppy taught me." 

A puppy? Suga didn't really know what to make of that. 

"There was a puppy, there?" Oikawa nodded. 

"Just for a while," Oikawa said, shaking his head lightly. "I... miss him." 

"What was his name?" Suga questioned, making his voice even softer and gentler. "Do you know where he went?" 

Oikawa shook his head again, almost a bit frantic this time. When he stopped, his breathing was heavy. 

"No name," He said. "Just... Puppy." Oikawa picked out another green piece from the bag, sifted through and realized it was the last one. 

He didn't have enough to make another stack. 

"This one's no good," Oikawa murmured, holding the piece out to Suga. "I can't stack it." 

"Can you stack it with one of the other colours?" Oikawa shook his head again. 

"It doesn't fit," He said, sounding almost frantic, a bit whiny and desperate. "I- I can't stack it. It's bad." 

Suga watched Oikawa for a moment, watched the way his free hand clawed at the fabric of his pants and the way his lower lip wobbled. After a few seconds, Suga reached out, let Oikawa drop the piece into his hand. Suga slid it into the bag slung over his shoulder, saw Oikawa's tense shoulders and clawed hand relax. 

"Thank you," Oikawa whispered, before reaching into the bag again, this time for four red pieces. 

There was a few minutes of silence, just Oikawa taking in deep, slow, breaths as he made stack after stack after stack. After some time, Suga decided it was safe to ask about the puppy again. 

"Did, maybe, Father take the puppy away?" Suga asked, voice calm and light. "Maybe the puppy did something bad?" 

Oikawa shook his head softly, and his long lashes seemed to flutter. 

"No, no." Oikawa whispered, "Puppy is good. Father... Father would never hurt Puppy. Or Baby or Kitten... No, no." 

Baby? Kitten? 

These must be nicknames, Suga thought. Nicknames for other people, who had been there with him.

"Are Baby and Kitten still with Father?" Suga shifted to give Oikawa more room to place his stacks, not wanting Oikawa to have to stop and end up panicking. 

Oikawa shook his head. "Kitten... Kitten was bad," He said. "Kitten left. Went away to the Garden." His hand shook, and he accidentally knocked over one of the green stacks. He was quick to fix it. "Baby," He murmured, and brought a hand up to tap at his own chest. "Baby." He repeated. 

"You're... Baby?" Suga asked after a few moments, catching on to what Oikawa meant. The brunet nodded. 

"Baby is Farther's favourite," Oikawa gave an almost soft smile. "Baby is good. Not like Kitten. Not like the others." Suga swore there was a slight flush to Oikawa's pale cheeks. "Baby is special." 

Suga watched, silent for a few moments, as Oikawa repeated that last sentence to himself under his breath. 

"Did Father ever... Hurt Baby?" Suga questioned. "Or touch Baby in a way he didn't like?" 

Oikawa shook his head. "No, Father wouldn't do that. Father wouldn't hurt Baby. Never." 

There was a pause, and Suga was about to speak, but Oikawa cut him off. 

"I don't want to talk anymore." Oikawa muttered, eyes not lifting from the stacks in front of him.

Suga nodded. "That's okay. We don't have to. We can just-" 

"I'd like to be alone, now." Oikawa said, voice coming out sharper than Suga expected. 

"Oh, okay," Suga blinked, a bit surprised by the bluntness. After a few moments, he stood. "Have a good night then, Oikawa-san." 

Suga turned, and began to walk slowly out of the room. Just as he was reaching for the door, Oikawa spoke up again. 

"Suga?" He said. 

"Yes?" Suga turned around, not expecting Oikawa to be looking directly at him. He suddenly looked so much more present than before, his eyes no longer glazed over, his hands not shaking. He looked completely focused, and that scared Suga, just a little bit. 

"It's not nice to trick people into telling you things," Oikawa said, no hint of shyness or haziness in his voice. "It's mean." Without looking, Oikawa used a hand to purposely knock over all the stacks he had spent so much time making. He stared at Suga, eyes bright and intense and terrifying for a few more moments. Then, he turned back to the messed up pile of pieces, letting out a surprised noise. 

Oikawa's hands shook when he reached out, started carefully fixing the mess he had made, stacking each stack, one by one, over again. 

"Oikawa?" Suga asked, and Oikawa glanced up at him. Suga found that Oikawa's eyes had gone hazy and glazed over once more. Just as quick as that sudden moment of clarity had come, it was gone. 

"Good night," Suga said again. Oikawa nodded, before returning to his stacking. 

"What was that, at the end?" Iwaizumi asked, the second Suga closed the bedroom door behind him. He was already to his feet, hair looking more ruffled than usual, as though he had run his hands through it repeatedly. 

Suga stepped away from the door, reached into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out a little grey audio recorder. He looked to Iwaizumi with something indecipherable in his eyes. 

"We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment/Kudos!
> 
> About this chapter: In this chapter, there's talk of a coping mechanism that Oikawa developed while in captivity. There may be a couple people who think this is an unrealistic way of coping, but it actually is one that I use myself, and one I know other people have used too. Of course, not everybody uses the same number as a comfort.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I miss Father," Oikawa whispered, making Kyoutani lift his head. "He took good care of me. Of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an early little gift! A lot happens in this chapter, and there's lots of insight and new information that hopefully adds to the mystery of what's going on. 
> 
> Since I had all the chapters so far pre-written, obviously it's going to take me a little bit longer to write out the chapters to post them. Hopefully it won't take too long to finish the next one!
> 
> please don't forget to comment! Even if its just about certain questions you have regarding the characterization and the plot! 
> 
> I love reading the comments of those of you who are trying to analyse this fic. It makes me so happy, so, at the few of you who are doing it, know that I do really appreciate your comments! I'll try to start responding to them soon!

"Suga, tell me what's going on." Iwaizumi said as the two of them sat at the kitchen table. "I don't understand what most of that was. Those names? The numbers?" 

Suga sighed, ran a finger around the rim of the cup of tea Iwaizumi had made for him. 

"I think I know how to help Oikawa," Suga admitted. "Or- A way to help him become more aware of what's really going on around him?" Suga shook his head. "Fuck, I don't know how to say this right." 

Iwaizumi sat there, waiting long enough to Suga to gather his thoughts. 

"I think I know who 'the puppy' is," Suga said. "And I think - if what I'm speculating is right about the kind of relationship he and Oikawa had in there - than he can help." 

"Relationship?" Iwaizumi's thick brows drew together with a crease in between. "Are you saying... Oikawa had a boyfriend... While he was kidnapped?" 

Suga shook his head again. "No, but that's not completely impossible." He lifted the mug to his mouth, took a small sip of his tea. "I think the two of them must have been close. Maybe friends - as close as you can get to that where they were-, maybe more. I think he could help, tell Oikawa what's real, what isn't, help Oikawa figure out that what happened to him was wrong."

Iwaizumi nodded, seemingly taking in everything Suga was saying. 

"Who is it?" He asked. 

Suga frowned. "Isn't it obvious?" He sighed, slumped his shoulders. "It's Kyoutani." 

Iwaizumi felt his eyes widen and is head begin to shake before he could stop himself. 

"No way!" He said, absolutely not having it. "If Kentarou had even heard of Oikawa back then, he would have told me by now!" 

Kyoutani Kentarou. He was a year younger than Iwaizumi. He'd been found two years earlier roaming through the streets, completely out of it, lashing out at anyone who had tried to touch him. He'd claimed that he'd been kidnapped years earlier, had been forced to be a part of some sex trafficking ring that stemmed from the west. Iwaizumi, having been the officer who had finally managed to drag the kid off the freeway, was put in charge of looking after him. 

Kyoutani had been really fucked up by what happened to him, but after a year and half of therapy - which meant going to the gym a lot with Iwaizumi and ranting as he pounded out his anger into a punching bag - he was in a much better place. He was currently a student at the police academy Iwaizumi had went to, was trying to sort out his life. 

"How could he be the puppy?" Iwaizumi asked almost incredulously. "Just because he was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring, it doesn't automatically mean he knows Tooru." 

"Iwaizumi," Suga sighed. "Think about it. He has the same obsession with numbers as Oikawa - He always counts to ten to calm himself, remember?-, He practically breaks down anytime anybody calls him "Mad dog" - stupid nickname by the way. Teru could have tried to be more creative - and he has the same burn markings as Oikawa!" 

"That doesn't mean anything!" Iwaizumi's shoulders slumped, and he huffed an irritated breath. "He's not the guy Oikawa was talking about. I don't know who is, but I know it isn't Kentarou. It can't be'" 

Suga gave a tired huff. "Can you at least talk to him? We need to check all leads, just to be sure." 

Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair. "Why me?" He asked. "Why can't you do it?" 

"Because, you're the only one who can ask about his past without him trying to bite off your head."

\----

"Tooru- Tooru, hey. Wake up," Oikawa let out a low groan, curled up tighter on his place on the tile floor. "Tooru, come on!" 

At the sound of the deep, rumbly voice speaking to him, Oikawa cracked open his eyes. 

"Ken...?" He asked, moving to sit up on his knees. He pulled the sweater that was rested on his shoulders tighter around himself, realized Ken must have put it on him while he slept. "What's going on?" 

Ken was kneeling by the door of their shared room, peeking through the small window in the center. Oikawa stood on shaky legs, waddled over to the door. He couldn't stand up for long - his left leg was still sore from when he had been tripped the other day and pushed to the ground by one of the clients. 

"He's going to be here soon," Ken said softly, as Oikawa leaned forward and rested his head to Ken's shoulder. "Are you sure this is okay? Are you sure we can trust him?"

Oikawa nodded, pressed his cheek to the warm skin of Ken's shoulder. "I'm sure," He said, "We've been planning this for months. If he was going to betray us to Father, he would have done took it already." 

Ken shuddered at Oikawa's touch, his hands clenching at his sides as though he were struggling to keep from pulling away. Ken had never been a touchy person, even before he'd ended up here. But he knew the physical contact was reassuring to Oikawa, that it helped keep him calm and steady. 

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Ken asked, turning to Oikawa and grabbing pale, shaking hands in his own. "I don't have anybody looking for me out there, like you do. Like Mina does." 

Oikawa huffed a bit petulantly, raised his head and leaned his forehead against Ken's. "We've been over this countless times," Oikawa muttered, looking up at him through long, fluttering lashes. "You need to get out first, get to the police. I can't go first." 

"Why not?" A bit of irritation melded it's way into his voice. 

"Because!" Oikawa grasped Ken's arms tightly, voice building with desperation. "If I leave first, Father will be so angry! You and Mina will both be punished so badly!" He cried. "I- I can't let that happen to you..." Oikawa's voice became heavy with tears, and Ken wrapped his arms tightly around the brunet's waist. 

"It's okay," Ken murmured, pressing chapped, cracked lips to a messy head of brown hair. "I can take it. I'll protect Mina. I promise," 

"I'm not only worried about Mina!" Oikawa cried, gripping Ken's thin muscle shirt almost tight enough to tear it. "I'm worried about you!" Oikawa hiccuped a sob. "You need to leave. Please, Ken. Get out of here. Please." 

Oikawa's voice cracked on the last word, and Ken sighed, held Oikawa even closer. 

"What about you?" Ken asked. "You'll be punished too, when he realizes I'm gone. You'll be tortured. He'll never let you go until you tell him where I've gone." 

Oikawa shook his head, and Ken wiped away the tears that were streaming down pale cheeks. "I'll never tell," He promised. "Never." 

They heard the sound of footsteps just outside the door. Oikawa turned his gaze to the window, caught sight of the familiar man, the british politician who had promised to save them. 

"I'll help you get out," Ken said hurriedly, cupping Oikawa's tear-moistened cheek. "I'll never stop until I get the two of you out of here." 

"Promise?" Oikawa's voice came out hoarse. 

Ken nodded, felt the prickle of tears in his own eyes. "I promise." 

They heard the sound of keys in the lock, and they knew they had to hurry their goodbyes. Oikawa grabbed Kyoutani's cheeks, pulled him close snd pressed a kiss to Ken's forehead. 

"Stay safe," Oikawa said, pressing his forehead to Ken's once more. 

Ken nodded jerkily. "Stay alive." He responded.-

Oikawa sat on the bed in Iwaizumi's bedroom, staring blankly at the wall across from him. 

Puppy. He left. He left Oikawa and Kitten behind. He just- he just left them!

Oikawa didn't remember Puppy leaving. He was there one day, gone the next. Oikawa knew there was something more to it, something he was missing, but he couldn't remember. All he remembered from that day was being locked in his room for hours, before he and Kitten were dragged down to the cellar. They were locked down there for weeks. Barely any food, only the tiniest bit of water. 

Oikawa remembered Father's men coming down there on countless occasions, beating them for their own pleasure, making them- making them do things. Making them touch each other. Making them touch the men. Making them. Making them kneel and hurting them and drugging them over and over and over and- 

Oikawa shook, buried his head in his knees and leg out a choked off sob.

No, nonono. He couldn't let himself think about. No. 

Instead, he thought about when Father finally came for them. Oikawa crawled into Father's lap, cried against him and begged to be forgiven. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but he knew it must have been something. Knew he wouldn't have to be punished if it wasn't his own fault. 

Oikawa was snapped out of his thoughts by a light knocking sound at the bedroom door. 

"Tooru, I'm heading out for a little while!" Iwaizumi called from the hallway. "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, but I should be back by lunchtime." 

Oikawa didn't respond, just stared at the door and hoped that it wouldn't open. After a few moments, he heard a soft sigh and quiet footsteps, leading back to the livingroom.

\----

"Are you sure he's going to be in there?" Suga asked, raising his brow as he looked out the car window. The gym they had parked in front of had only just opened, and only the early-morning athletes were starting to trickly in one by one. 

Iwaizumi nodded, turned the key back and pulled it out of the ignition. 

"He works out here every morning," Iwaizumi exclaimed. "He's become good friends with the owner, so he's able to come in before it opens." 

"What if he's not in there? What if he didn't come today?" 

Iwaizumi sighed. "You don't get it," He said. "Kentarou never, ever, misses a work out." 

"Stay here," Iwaizumi told Suga as he slipped out of the car. "I don't know how he'll react to me bringing up his past with you around." 

Suga nodded. Iwaizumi closed the door, and made his way into the building. 

It only took Iwaizumi a few minutes to find Kyoutani, as usual. He was on the treadmill, strong legs pushing him forwards - not really though, since the treadmill doesn't move - as he ran.

Iwaizumi walked up beside him, and Kyoutani glanced at him only briefly. 

"Hey." Kyoutani huffed out in between breaths.

"Hey," Iwaizumi returned. "I have something I need to talk to you about, regarding your case." 

Kyoutani slowed the treadmill to a slow jog so he could pay more attention to their conversatiom. "Couldn't you just call me?" 

Iwaizumi shook his head, pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. "If this goes how Suga thinks this is going to, I might need you to come back to my apartment with me." 

Kyoutani raised a thin brow, but didn't say anything, waiting for Iwaizumi to elaborate. 

"Do you remember when I told you about my Fiancé who went missing?" Iwaizumi asked, and Kyoutani nodded. 

"Oikawa?" He asked. 

"Yeah," Iwaizumi sighed. "Do you know him? Or- did you?" 

"He went missing three years before I got out," Kyoutani said breathily. "There's no way." 

"That's not what I mean, Kentarou." Iwaizumi inhaled a deep breath, shifted his weight onto his left leg. "Did you know him, when you were captive? Was he there with you?" 

Kyoutani sighed, turned the treadmill off completely and stepped off. There was something in his eyed that Iwaizumi had seen countless times; fear, maybe?

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Kyoutani admitted, and Iwaizumi felt his hands clench tight in his pockets. "When I realized that... That Tooru was your fiancé , you weren't there. So I told your boss."

Iwaizumi frowned, fought the urge to punch Kyoutani square in the jaw. He'd known Oikawa and where he was this entire time?!

"Why didn't you tell me the next time we saw each other?" He asked, voice rough with anger. 

"Irihata told me not to. He said it would fuck up your mental health and get you back to obsessing over the case." Kyoutani lifted the bottom of his black tank to wipe the sweat away from his face, and Iwaizumi seethed. Not at Kyoutani anymore - no, he knew the kid was just doing what he was told -, but at Irihata for not telling him. 

"Of course I would have focused on this case!" He nearly yelled, then had to remind himself to reign in his voice. "If there was any chance of getting Oikawa back, no matter how small, I would have taken it!"

Kyoutani nodded. "And that's why he didn't want me to tell you. From my understanding, you guys had a serial killer on the loose at the time? He needed you working that case." Kyoutani walked over to a bench on the side of the room, picked up his water bottle and took a large gulp. 

"Why are you asking me about this now?" Kyoutani asked, and Iwaizumi realized Kyoutani didn't know what had been going on the last few weeks. 

"Listen, Ken," Iwaizumi sighed, ran his hand through his hair. "We've been keeping this out of the press, strictly need-to-know," He said. "But we found Oikawa."

Kyoutani's golden eyes widened just a fraction, and he slumped against the bench, staring down at his marred hands. He ran his thumb over a burn scar on the back of his wrist. 

"What...?" Kyoutani cleared his throat. "What are you going to do, now?" He asked. 

Iwaizumi settled himself on the bench next to Kyoutani. "I'm trying to help him get better," Iwaizimi said. "You know, he was messed up pretty badly by what happened to him..." 

"Fucking asshole," Kyoutani groaned, buried his head in his hands. Iwaizumi raised a brow at the blond. "Fuck- The way you said that- I thought he was dead." 

Iwaizumi coughed, and shook his head. "No, no. He got out of the hospital a week and a half ago. He's living at home with me again." 

Kyoutani nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. Iwaizumi heard a quiet murmuring of numbers, but didn't mention it; He knew Kyoutani was just trying to calm himself. Trying to hold back painful memories of what happened to him and Oikawa. 

After a moment, Kyoutani took another shaky breath. "Can I see him?" Kyoutani asked, raising his head up just barely. 

Iwaizumi nodded. "Yeah, but," He tugged at Kyoutani's sweaty shirt. "You need a shower first." 

\----

Just under an hour later, Iwaizumi, Suga, and Kyoutani arrived at the apartment. 

"He doesn't leave the bedroom much," Iwaizumi said as they kicked off their shoes. "I don't like forcing him to come out, but you can talk to him in there if you want." 

Kyoutani nodded, shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up a bit awkwardly. 

"Do you want to talk to him alone?" Suga asked. Kyoutani grunted quietly. 

"No," He said. "I'm not sure how it'll be... if we're alone." Iwaizumi nodded, though he didn't really understand. 

Iwaizumi led Suga and Kyoutani down the hallway, Kyoutani trailing a few steps behind. When Iwaizumi paused at the door and looked back, Kyoutani was fidgeting with his hands, muttering numbers under his breath nervously. He nodded to Iwaizumi, who turned back and knocked on the door. 

"Tooru, I'm home," He said. "There's someone here who wants to see you. Is it okay if we come in?" 

There was a few seconds of silence, before, "Yeah." Oikawa's voice was just loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear, and he didn't notice the small flinch from Kyoutani at the sound. 

Iwaizumi pushed open the door, and stepped inside. Oikawa was sitting curled up in the reading chair across the room, wrapped up in the blanket that used to be on the back of the couch; He'd taken it to the bedroom with him after the first night, and it's been his favourite since. 

Oikawa watched Iwaizumi enter the room, eyes seemingly red from crying. When Suga entered behind him, his eyes narrowed. 

Then he saw Kyoutani, shuffling in behind them. Without any hesitation, Oikawa scurried out of the chair, running up to Kyoutani. He let out a happy noise and wrapped his arms around Kyoutani's neck. Kyoutani stumbled back at the sudden impact, but Iwaizumi could see the smallest of smiles on his face as his arms fell to wrap around Oikawa's waist.

"Hey, Tooru." Kyoutani greeted as Oikawa pressed his face against Kyoutani's shoulder. Kyoutani buried his face in Oikawa's hair. 

Oikawa let out a little hiccuped sob, and pressed closer to Kyoutani. "I- I missed you." He murmured hoarsely. 

"I know," Kyoutani ran a hand up and down Oikawa's covered back in a soothing motion. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you." 

"It's okay," Oikawa said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "It's okay." 

"Can we sit down?" Kyoutani asked after a few more moments of just quietly holding each other. "We need to talk." 

Oikawa nodded a bit jerkily, and grabbed Kyoutani by the hand. Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa pulled the blond across the room, sat him down on the chair and, without any hesitation whatsoever, plopped into his lap sideways. Kyoutani stared at Oikawa with wide eyes, before leaning back into his chair and wrapping an arm around Oikawa's waist, the other falling to rest on top of the brunet's bent legs. 

Iwaizumi closed the door, and he and Suga took seats at the edge of the bed. 

"How are you?" Kyoutani asked Oikawa. The brunet leaned against his chest, looking up at him with a small smile and bright eyes. Kyoutani felt his heart fill with overwhelming fondness. "How is it, being out?" 

"It's different," Oikawa whispered just loud enough for Kyoutani to hear. "It's... nice. Not as scary. I don't get hurt here, when I'm bad."

Kyoutani noticed a difference in the way Oikawa spoke; softer, more.... submissive. Kyoutani thought that maybe the toughness Oikawa had shown before had been an act, a way to protect himself. 

Oikawa shifted in Kyoutani's lap, and winced. Kyoutani frowned, ran a gentle hand over Oikawa's bad knee. The brunet smiled, let out a relieved puff of air. 

Iwaizumi and Suga watched their interactions with interest, and Iwaizumi couldn't help thinking that maybe the two of them had actually been together. 

He felt almost cheated on, just a little bit. 

"It's better, isn't it?" Kyoutani said. "Not having to worry about doing or saying something wrong, being locked up all the time." He rested his head back against the chair, grateful that he no longer had to worry about being beaten every day, about being rented by whoever had the money to afford a night with him. "No Father to control us." 

Oikawa let out a soft hum, cheek pressed to Kyoutani's shoulder. 

"I miss Father," Oikawa whispered, making Kyoutani lift his head. "He took good care of me. Of us." 

That's when Kyoutani realized; Oikawa wasn't acting differently now because he had been putting up a front, before. He actually was different. 

He'd been tamed. 

Suddenly Kyoutani felt like he was going to puke. He sucked in a deep breath to hold it in, fought the urge to pull away from Oikawa, to force him to remove his hands from Kyoutani's body. 

Oikawa had been tamed. He'd been broken. 

No, no. That's not right. When Kyoutani was there, Oikawa was still fighting, still rebelling. He'd managed a year before Kyoutani came, and two years while Kyoutani was there. He was strong. He'd learned how to pretend, how to act like the obedient little doll Father had been trying to turn him into. But, no. He was still there. Still fighting. 

Kyoutani counted under his breath, trying to calm himself, trying to keep from panicking further, from shoving Oikawa off of him. 

"Hey, hey..." Oikawa lifted his hands to Kyoutani's cheeks, noticing that something was wrong but not knowing what it was. "You're okay," Oikawa whispered. 

Kyoutani grabbed Oikawa's hands, trying to be gentle as he pulled them away from his face. Oikawa let out a little confused noise. 

Kyoutani needed to ask questions, needed to figure out what happened, how Father broke him.

"Tooru" Kyoutani said. "You need to tell me what happened, after I left. I thought that James was going to come back for you?" 

Oikawa shook his head, a confused look on his face. "I don't..." He whispered. "Who's... Who's James?" 

Kyoutani's throat ran dry. Oh please, please don't let there be memory loss. 

"The politician," Kyoutani said, a bit of desperation bleeding into his voice, trying to keep his hands from clenching too tight around Oikawa's. "The british guy, remember? He came to get one of us and you told me to go first. Do you remember that?" 

Oikawa stared at Kyoutani for a moment, before he shook his head. "No," He whispered, sounding a bit whiney. "I don't... I don't remember that." 

"You were just... gone," Oikawa said. "Puppy just left me and Kitten there all alone!" Oikawa's hands shook in Kyoutani's, and tears welled up in his eyes. "You just left us! And we were locked up for weeks!" He cried out, his shoulders shaking. 

Puppy and Kitten. Oikawa had never called Kyoutani that, never called Mina that. To each other, they had akways been Ken, Mina, and Tooru. Never had they stooped so low as to call each other the names Father had forced upon them. 

"What do you mean?" Kyoutani asked. "What do you mean, you were locked up?" 

"In the cellar," He whimpered. "They threw us down there and- and they hurt us- They-" Oikawa clutched Kyoutani's shirt tightly in his hand, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. "It was so dark down there-" 

"What happened after?" Kyoutani asked. He didn't want to ask these questions, but he knew he had no choice. He had to ask, had to know, so he could help Oikawa. "What happened when they let you out?"

Oikawa sniffled, rubbed his face against Kyoutani's shirt. "Father came and got us," He whispered. "He- He took me back to our old room and- and made me watch as-" Oikawa hiccuped a sob, clenched his eyes tightly shut. "They killed Iwa-chan!" He nearly yelled. "They made me watch! It- It was so awful!" 

Kyoutani looked to Iwaizumi on the bed, hoped he would know what Oikawa was talking about. Iwaizumi nodded, waved a hand in the air to indicate that he would explain it to Kyoutani later. 

It all made sense, then. That must be when Oikawa had broken. The combination of Kyoutani leaving, being locked in the dark cellar and being tortured for weeks, and then being forced to watch as his fiance - it was most definitely a trick, Kyoutani thought. They had to have killed someone else and just made him think it was Iwaizumi - was murdered must have broken him. All of the added stress and emotion and pain must have built up in him to the point where he was so overwhelmed that he just broke. 

Fuck. 

"Tooru," Kyoutani rested his hands on Oikawa's shaking shoulders. "What happened to Mina? Is she still there?" 

Oikawa's lower lip quivered as he tried to calm his crying, but he gave Kyoutani a confused little look. 

"Kitten," He said, holding back a sigh. "Is she still with Father?"

There was a sniffle, and Oikawa clutched Kyoutani's shirt tighter. Oikawa shook his head. 

"Do you know what happened to her?" 

Oikawa gave Kyoutani a little look, a look that said he didn't want to tell him. 

"Tooru, you need to tell me. Maybe we can find her, save her." Oikawa huffed. 

"You'll never find her," He whispered, eyes darting back and forth, before closing tightly for a moment. "She's gone." 

"Do you know what happened? Where she went? Why she was taken?" Kyoutani was trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he couldn't help it. He had hoped- hoped Oikawa would be okay and that maybe they could reconnect, have a relationship similar to the one they had before. But no, not while Oikawa was like this. 

"She was bad," Oikawa said, eyes shining with desperation as he leaned in close. "Kitty was a bad girl! She made me get punished! She tried to hurt Father!" 

Kyoutani realized then- no, that wasn't desperation in Oikawa's eyes. 

It was rage. 

"Tooru," Kyoutani leaned close, rested his head against Oikawa's, voice deep and gruff. "Tell me what happened to her." 

"She made me!" Oikawa whined, desperately. "She made me do it!" More tears fell freely down his face. 

Kyoutani's voice was rough, full of repressed irritation when he spoke. "What. Did. You. Do." 

Oikawa sobbed, let his head fall to Kyoutani's shoulder. "I- I sent her to the Garden." 

Kyoutani tensed up, immediately. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck No, nononono. Oikawa couldn't. He knew, just like the rest of them, what the Garden meant. 

Kyoutani had to get out of here, out of this room. Away from Oikawa. Just for a little while, just to breathe. He needed- he needed space to think, or he'd go fucking crazy. 

He didn't want to do that, not while Oikawa was here, crying against him. Oikawa may have broken, but he was still Oikawa. Kyoutani didn't want to hurt him like he'd hurt others in his panicked rage.

Kyoutani clenched his jaw tight, fought the almost uncontrollable urge to mutter those soothing numbers under his breath. 

"Tooru," He said, casting a glance to Suga and Iwaizumi, who were watching the whole scene with confusion written all over their faces. "I have to go for a little bit, Okay?" Oikawa let out a disapproving noise. "Just for a little while," He promised. "But I'll still be here. In the apartment. I'll come back to see you before I leave." 

There was a sniffle, and then a nod, Oikawa shifting to let Kyoutani stand. Kyoutani bent over, pressed a quick kiss to the top of Oikawa's head, then left the room. Suga and Iwaizumi followed him to the door. 

Kyoutani didn't wait for the other two to catch up to him once he was out the door. He rushed down the hallway, managed to hold himself together until he made it to the kitchen. Then he slumped onto the floor, back against the counter with his knees drawn up to his chest. 

"Fucking- God!" He pressed his face against the palms of his hands, tugged mercilessly at his overgrown blond hair. He wouldn't cry he wouldn't cry nononono Do Not fucking cry-

There was a hand at his shoulder, and Kyoutani jerked away. 

"Don't fucking touch me!" He all but yelled. He couldn't stand being touched. No, no. He couldn't take it. He could barely even handle Oikawa's hands on him. It felt like bugs crawling over his skin, making him itch and scratch and writhe. And then he was back in that wooden box Father had forced him into, screaming and crying and begging- begging to be let out, promising to be good. Promising that he wouldn't fight back anymore, as bugs - beetles, spiders, earwigs - crawled all over him, got under his clothes and in his hair and on his face and- no- no no, no no no! 

Kyoutani counted under his breath, rocking back and forth and tugging at his scalp. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, just shaking and trying to pull himself back together. His mind was swarmed with images from his past; Being locked in that dark, dingy cellar with Oikawa and Mina as punishment. Sometimes they were there for only days, sometimes for weeks. They would stay curled up together, naked and dirty and scared. He could still clearly recall the feeling of those two thin bodies leaning against him, could still feel Mina's ever shaking hands holding onto his arm, Oikawa's tear-stained face pressed against his shoulder. 

Kyoutani was snapped out of his panic when a soft hand landed on his knee. His head snapped up, and he was ready to jerk away from the touch. But then he saw Suga sitting in front of him, an almost understanding expression on his face.

"Get your hand off me." Kyoutani snapped, trying to hold in his rage. 

Suga did as told, dropping his hand back to his lap. 

Suga didn't say anything at first, just sat there as Kyoutani tried to calm his breathing. Kyoutani wasn't sure how long it took; maybe a few minutes, maybe less. But eventually his stiff shoulders slumped and his breath returned to normal. 

"Are you okay?" Suga's voice asked, soft and concerned. Kyoutani just shook his head. 

"Of course." He forced out. "I'm just fucking peachy." 

Suga didn't laugh, or snort, or even look annoyed at the obvious lie. 

"Kentarou-" 

"Don't-" Kyoutani cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to say. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But-" 

"Leave him alone, Suga," Iwaizumi's voice rang out at the entrance to the kitchen. Kyoutani's head snapped up, eyes falling on the wet rag in Iwaizumi's hands. Iwaizumi strode over and sat next to Kyoutani. "The kid's been through enough. He doesn't have to tell you anything." 

Suga sighed, but nodded. Kyoutani didn't hold anything against Suga: It was just in his nature to ask questions, to want to know how to help people. 

Kyoutani jumped when a hand landed on his arm, raw and bleeding from when he had apparently been scratching. He was about to jolt away, but then Iwaizumi was gently running the cloth over Kyoutani's arm, gently wiping away the blood. 

"Do you still feel them?" Iwaizumi asked softly, much more gentle than his voice usually was. Iwaizumi was the only person who knew the depths of Kyoutani's PTSD, who knew the illusions he struggled to disprove. 

"Yeah," Kyoutani murmured, staring down at the skin of his arm. "All the time." 

Suga didn't say anything, but Kyoutani figured it might be best to tell him. Kyoutani hated letting people know how vulnerable he was, but the more honest he was, the more likely it was to be able to help Oikawa. 

"Bugs." Kyoutani said as Iwaizumi trailed the cloth up to his wrist. The cloth was already lightly covered in blood, making Kyoutani feel the urge to puke. 

"I was locked in a box," Kyoutani watched each swipe of the cloth over his skin. "I don't know how many times." Iwaizumi started on Kyoutani's other arm. "They'd dump bugs all over me, let them crawl on me and bite me for hours. It-" Kyoutani sucked in a breath. "I can still feel them Constantly." His brows furrowed. "Or maybe it's their hands on me I still feel." 

"You said they were gone," Iwaizumi said, the tiniest hint of irritation in his voice. "And you said you weren't counting anymore. That's why you were allowed to start training." 

"I did stop." Kyoutani snapped. "Until today. Until Tooru-" Kyoutani stopped himself. He couldn't blame Oikawa for this. Kyoutani cared for Oikawa, more than anyone. None of this was his fault. He didn't do anything wrong. 

Kyoutank was still trying to convince himself of that. 

After Kyoutani went silent, Iwaizumi sighed. Once he finished cleaning up and bandaging Kyoutani's arms, he stood. 

"Do you want some lunch?" Iwaizumi asked. "Or do you have to get to school?" 

"No school today," Kyoutani stood, and Suga followed suit. "Can I go see Tooru for a little while?" 

Iwaizumi froze where he had been reaching to open the fridge. 

"Are you sure?" Iwaizumi asked, and Kyoutani swore he saw a hint of jealousy in his eyes. "We still need to talk about what happened in there." 

"We can talk later," Kyoutani huffed. "I just need some time with him. I'll tell you if he says anything you should know." 

There was a pause where Iwaizumi turned so only Suga could see his face. There wasn't any words between them, but Suga's reaction to the look on Iwaizumi's face had him feeling more than a little concerned. 

"Fine." Iwaizumi started walking out of the kitchen, towards the livingroom. Kyoutani could tell Iwaizumi wanted to say more, but he did no such thing. Once Suga trailed Iwaizumi out of the kitchen, Kyoutani made his way back down the hallway.

\----

"A famous athlete? My, my. I didn't think you dabbled with famous people." 

"I don't." Father's rumbled across the room, making Oikawa jump. He stood on a pedestal in the center of a room, naked and being appraised by an interested renter. "But he's a special one. I couldn't just pass him up." 

"Of course not," The rich woman walked leisurely around Oikawa, inspecting his body. She didn't touch him; That was the one rule. No touching until you pay. That's one small thing Oikawa was thankful for during these appraisals. He wasn't sure if he could handle being touched by anybody who was interested in him. It was bad enough that he had to sleep with the ones wealthy enough to rent him. "He's Beautiful. I bet his skin was flawless before all of this." 

She walked back to the front, and peered at his face through his hair. 

"At least his face is still perfect. Wouldn't want him to be damaged." 

Oikawa fought the urge to puke. He hated it, being naked while people looked at it, being talked about like he's an inanimate object, being used like a toy, like a doll. He fucking hated it.

"Hurry up and tell me whether or not you'll rent him. It's cold in here, and he gets sick easily." Father snapped at the woman, and Oikawa felt a brief moment of happiness. That Father cared for him, that he didn't want him to get sick again. Even standing was hard for him. His legs shook, his head swam from malnourishment. 

"Of course I'll take him!" The woman pulled out her checkbook and a pen.

Before the woman could even begin to write, Oikawa collapsed to the floor.

\----

Oikawa awoke in the darkness of the bedroom, still in the armchair, where he had apparently fallen asleep. He blinked heavily, unable to keep from thinking about the time he had passed out during an appraisal, how badly he had been punished later for not keeping himself awake. 

He's jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of a small cough. He looked over, and found Kyoutani sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Oikawa scrambled to get up, though his legs were numb and tired. He almost fell over twice, but then he was landing in Kyoutani's lap, and warm, muscular arms eere wrapped tightly around him. 

"Are you okay?" Kyoutani's voice rumbled, sending pleasant shivers down Oikawa's spine. He nodded, pressing his face against Kyoutani's neck. 

"They made me do so many awful things," Oikawa whispered. "I don't- I can't think about them anymore." Oikawa's nails dug into Kyoutani's shirt. "Please make it stop." 

There was a few moments of silence. Then Kyoutani picked Oikawa up and moved them to the head of the mattress. He set Oikawa down and climbed on next to him. Oikawa was immediately clinging to him again, and it reminded Kyoutani almost too much of the time they used to spent together.

A part of Kyoutani wanted to ask about what Oikawa had told him earlier, about what happened to Mina. But Kyoutani knew he couldn't, knew it wasn't something either of them could handle talking about without possibly getting into a fight. 

Kyoutani didn't want to risk it. 

It was enough just thinking about it, about what an awful thing Oikawa had done. The fact that Oikawa had been broken changed things, but not by much. Oikawa still did what he did, and it was awful. 

Kyoutani just hoped that Oikawa hadn't been forced to hurt anybody else by father's hand, though he knew it was a lie. 

Oikawa had been forced to hurt Kyoutani on countless occasions, as Kyoutani was forced to hurt Oikawa. Father knew, Kyoutani suspected, that Oikawa and Kyoutani had such a close relationship. It was Father's way of reminding them that they weren't in control of their lives, that they couldn't be together even if they wanted to be. 

Kyoutani's arm twitches at the memory of the knife that had been forced into his hand, the scars he had been made to leave on Oikawa's body. They're some of the worst ones, a few having needed stitches. 

Kyoutani never wanted to cut Oikawa, never wanted to hurt him. He tried to be shallow about it, tried to not cut too deep. But Father would get mad, hit him and tell him to do it properly. That he couldn't stop until Father was satisfied. 

Kyoutan got lost in the memory of the cries Oikawa had let out with each cut, remembered how Oikawa hadn't resisted no matter how badly it hurt. Later, as they laid on their floor, curled together and shaking, Oikawa would say that he didn't want to see Kyoutani get hurt anymore, that he took the pain so Kyoutani didn't have to.

The Oikawa in the present let out a small whimper, and Kyoutani was pulled out of the past to realize that he was holding Oikawa too tight, putting too much pressure on his frail body. 

"M'sorry." Kyoutani mumbled, and Oikawa just nuzzled closer, his hand gripping Kyoutani's shirt. 

"It's okay, Ken." Oikawa whispered. "It's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't forget to leave a comment!


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi reached for the handle, and went to open the door. It was locked, though, and Iwaizumi wasn't sure where he had left the key.
> 
> "Tooru, please let me in," Iwaizumi's voice was softer than he expected it to be, and he rapped lightly against the door again. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Sorry for missing so many updates! Life has been really hectic for me for the last little while. Honestly i've only been able to dedicate my time to a few small things, and even zine work right now is taking a tole on me, so writing fic updates is something I haven't been really able to to. My life has been pretty much dedicated to doing zine work, working on my novel, and trying to find a job. Due to my own fault, even zine work is taking taking a backseat right now even though I should be able to do more on it.
> 
> I hope you guys understand that. especially the lovely few of you who read all of my works and have been waiting patiently for updates. I know this chapter is super short. The next one should be much longer. 
> 
> Ubnu and Nghyb should be updated soon, but I wanted to know if there was any interest in physical copies and art of ubnu. If you are interested in that, please leave a comment letting me know or send an ask to my writing tumblr: AIdenjaxwrites. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

"What are you doing out here?" Iwaizumi asked, stepping into the living room. Oikawa was on the couch, curled up with a blanket and staring into space. When he heard Iwaizumi's voice, he jumped.

"I-" He paused, eyes fluttering in the way they did when he was particularly tired. "Am I not allowed to leave the bedroom?"

Iwaizumi shook his head and stepped further into the room, slowly taking a seat in the armchair to avoid startling the skittish brunet.

"It's fine," Iwaizumi assured. "You just don't come out here often."

Oikawa shrugged and picked at the frayed edge of the blanket.

"Puppy left," Oikawa whispered. "I miss him."

Iwaizumi shouldn't have felt jealous, but that didn't change the fact that he did.

He shouldn't have been jealous that Oikawa was comfortable with being touched by Kyoutani, that he even initiated contact. He shouldn't have been jealous that Oikawa and Kyoutani were able to talk about things that Oikawa wouldn't even mention around Iwaizumi.

He shouldn't have been jealous that Kyoutani had been there for Oikawa during some of the darkest times of his life.

He shouldn't be. But he was.

But that was unfair. Oikawa was mentally ill, was kidnapped and tortured and raped, for fucks sakes. And it just so happened that he found someone in all of that who became a comfort to him.

Iwaizumi should have been happy for him, at least a little bit. That Oikawa had someone, that he could trust someone.

But why couldn't it be him? Why did it have to be Kyoutani?

Why was Iwaizumi the one who was left with nobody?

"Iwa...?" Iwaizumi's head snapped up, and he found Oikawa staring at him with an almost fearful gaze.

"What?" Iwaizumi asked, trying not to snap at him.

"You seemed really mad for a second..." There was a pause, then Oikawa flinched and curled in on himself. "Sorry, that's none of my business."

"It's fine," Iwaizumi said for probably the hundredth time in the last few weeks. "I was just thinking about everything that happened to you. How awful it is."

Oikawa didn't say anything, just curled into himself a little further.

Iwaizumi had to try to fix this. He couldn't be this way with Oikawa anymore, unable to talk to him and be close to him and even be in the same room as him. Iwaizumi needed something.

Someone.

"Tooru," Oikawa's name slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself. "Do you remember that restaurant we used to go to all the time? The one owned by that cute old couple?"

Oikawa's eyes flicked up to him, and there was a pause before he nodded, just the tiniest lift and drop of his head.

"I went there a few times after you disappeared," Iwaizumi watched Oikawa's hand drop to the pocket of his sweater, probably to fiddle with those little plastic circles Suga had brought him, a few of which he carried around with him at all times. "They let me put up posters there. You know, missing posters."

Oikawa nodded again to show he was still listening, and Iwaizumi continued.

"The posters are probably still there. They're up everywhere." Iwaizumi briefly recalled the days he had spent aimlessly wandering around Tokyo, putting up signs wherever would let him. And who wouldn't? A famous volleyball player had gone missing. "I was thinking we could let everybody know that you've been found, maybe talk to Matsu and Makki about them coming to see you? Maybe you can start practicing volleyball again?"

Iwaizumi is just grasping at straws, now. He's trying to find anything, any way to reconnect with Oikawa, to find something that can make Oikawa want to talk to him again.

"You... You want people to know?" Oikawa asked, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence. "That I'm here?"

Iwaizumi nodded. "If you want."

It was stupid of Iwaizumi to think that Oikawa was ready, to think that he would be able to handle it. He was so, so stupid.

"I'm not going back." Iwaizumi's brows raised at the firmness in Oikawa's voice, quiet but stronger than usual. "I'm not leaving Puppy."

"I'm not trying to make you go back," Iwaizumi defended. "I just think that maybe you'll be a little happier if you can do things you love again."

"You just want Father to find me and take me back!" Desperation bled into Oikawa's voice, his hands gripping at the blanket. "I won't go without Puppy! And Puppy will never go back!"

"Tooru, I'm not trying to-"

"I'm not leaving!" Oikawa yelled, shaking. His voice cracked on the last word, and he wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he broke into a sob. "You can't make me! I've been good! I haven't been bad!"

Iwaizumi stood, and stepped towards the couch. Oikawa flinched back, sobbing and clutching his knees to his chest.

"I'm not going back!" Oikawa yelled again. "I'm not going back!" He was shaking, letting out little hiccuped sobs.

"Tooru, please listen to me." Iwaizumi reached his hand out. "I-"

Oikawa batted his hand away, and he was rushing off the couch and running out of the room. Iwaizumi only registered what happened once the bedroom door slammed.

Iwaizumi sighed, his shoulders slumping. With heavy steps, Iwaizumi trailed Oikawa's path to the bedroom. He knocked on the door.

"Tooru, I'm sorry," Iwaizumi said. "I didn't mean to upset you. I promise I'm not going to send you away." Iwaizumi stood there for a few moments, to no response. With his ear almost up to the door, Iwaizumi listened. He quickly picked up the sound of hiccuped sobs, and a few seconds later, the scent of vomit filled his nose.

Iwaizumi reached for the handle, and went to open the door. It was locked, though, and Iwaizumi wasn't sure where he had left the key.

"Tooru, please let me in," Iwaizumi's voice was softer than he expected it to be, and he rapped lightly against the door again. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Once again, there was no response, just the concerning sound of more retching from inside the room. After a solid five minutes of waiting, Iwaizumi walked away from the door, grabbing his phone from the kitchen. He dialled Suga's number, sighing as Suga's voice rung in his ears.

"Suga, I think I fucked up."

\----

"Where is he?" Suga asked the second he stepped into the apartment, half an hour later.

"In the bedroom," Iwaizumi sighed. "He ran in there and locked the door. He cried for a while, and I think he puked."

Suga sighed, kicking off his shoes and stepping further into the apartment.

"Where's the key?"

Iwaizumi held up the tiny key, having found it a few minutes ago but wanting to wait for Suga. He didn't want to startle Oikawa again, didn't want to make him panic any more today.

"Did you call Kyoutani?" Suga asked, walking over and practically snatching the key into his hand.

"No," Iwaizumi led Suga into the kitchen, where he had made a mug of tea in case Oikawa decided he wanted it. "He has physical training today, and I don't think having him here right now is a good idea. I don't want them to affect each other."

When Iwaizumi returned his gaze to Suga, there was an unimpressed look on his face.

"Are you seriously that petty?" Suga asked, leaning back against the counter. "Are you really jealous of the relationship they have?"

"It's not a relationship," Iwaizumi deadpanned. "They latched on to each other in captivity. That's it." Iwaizumi picked up the travel mug, screwing on the lid so it wouldn't spill if Oikawa dropped it. "I don't want Oikawa to rely on Kyoutani like that again. I don't want them to think that they're stable enough to be together."

"You don't want him to rely on Kyoutani?" Suga asked incredulously. "You just want him to rely on you instead."

Iwaizumi sighed, his shoulders slumping. Leave it to Suga to read the situation before anybody else.

"Fine," Iwaizumi snapped. "What if I do? I love him. I've been looking for him for years! And when he finally comes back, he's so mentally damaged that I can't even talk to him!" Iwaizumi was trying to hold in his anger. Really, he was, but everything in the last few weeks was just building up, putting more and more weight on his shoulders. "And then I bring Kyoutani here and Tooru just latches onto him! Like I'm nothing, like I haven't been here for him since before we could walk!"

Iwaizumi's tense shoulders sagged. "I'm allowed to be jealous. I'm allowed to be upset."

Suga, who had just been silently listening to Iwaizumi's rant, sighed and stepped forward.

"You are allowed to be angry, Iwaizumi." Suga clapped a hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder. "You have the right to feel what you do. But you have to take everything into consideration."

Suga pulled his hand off Iwaizumi's shoulder and grabbed the mug.

"These last few years, Kyoutani and Oikawa went through absolute hell. We don't even know the extent of it yet. Oikawa isn't the same person he used to be, whether you want him to be or not. You can't just treat him as you used to."

Iwaizumi went to speak, but Suga continued.

"He's not that person anymore," Suga emphasized. "He's not a happy, confident volleyball player who can stand in front of cameras and talk about his life story for twenty minutes. He's not someone who can talk about the awful things that were done to him." Suga walked over to the fridge rummaging inside as if it were his own and coming out with a bowl of fruit. "He certainly isn't someone who's going to get better if you keep treating him like he was five years ago!"

Suga turned back to Iwaizumi with a fire in his eyes.

"I may not know Oikawa well," Suga admitted. "But I know what trauma looks like. I know what it does to people. And whether you're ready to accept it or not, Oikawa is traumatized, and he needs to be allowed time to heal."

Iwaizumi slumped further, feeling nothing but shame.

"Where's the paper towel?" Suga asked. "I'm going to clean up the puke."

Iwaizumi pointed to the cupboard, and moved to help.

"You stay out here." Suga cut him off with an icy gaze. "I'm going to try to talk to him, and I don't need you in there making him have another panic attack." With that, Suga gathered everything into his arms and made his way down the hallway.

\----

Oikawa wasn't really sure what kind of state he had fallen into.

He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't really awake either. He thought he was aware of what was going on around him, but he also thought that the angry voices outside the bedroom might have just been his imagination.

He didn't respond when a soft knocking sound came from the door, thinking that it, too, might not be real.

But Iwaizumi had knocked earlier, and Oikawa was pretty sure that was real.

Maybe he wanted to make sure Oikawa was okay? Maybe he heard the crying and the puking earlier.

But... Why would he care? He wanted to get rid of Oikawa. He wanted to send Oikawa back to father, alone. Without Kyoutani, without Mina. Iwaizumi wanted to send him back and wipe his hands clean of the broken Oikawa Tooru.

Oikawa knew he was broken, knew he had gone insane. And he didn't really care anymore. He decided that was just who he became. He could never go back to how he was.

He wasn't sure he'd know what to do if he did.

Oikawa's eyes fluttered shut just as the bedroom door opened, and he found himself unable to open them. He heard the soft shuffle of footsteps on the carpet, and something softly being set on the bedside table.

"Iwaizumi made you tea," Suga's pleasant voice rang in Oikawa's ears. "I'm going to clean up the puke."

Oikawa didn't move, didn't acknowledge Suga's existence. He didn't even think that he could. His body felt too heavy, his mind too tired. Suga's voice sounded like Oikawa was underwater, and Suga was hundreds of miles above him. Floating. Watching Oikawa drown with that pleasant, happy smile on his face.

Oikawa wasn't sure when he managed to pull out of this strange little state, but he was still really groggy and a little fuzzy when he managed to open his eyes. Oikawa's vision was blurry, hazy, but he was soon able to recognize Suga, kneeling only a few inches away next to the bed, cleaning up the last of three piles of vomit. The stench of it stung Oikawa's nose, and the cleaner Suga was using wasn't really helping.

Oikawa sat up and slid backwards a little, still not wanting to be close to the other man. Oikawa knew Suga could hurt him, that Oikawa was vulnerable enough that almost anybody could hurt him.

"How's your memory?" Suga asked as he finished cleaning up the mess. He disposed of the soiled pieces of cloth in a plastic grocery bag to be taken care of later. "Is it getting better?"

Oikawa pulled the blanket up and around himself, holding himself back from shaking.

"Kind of," He whispered after a long pause. "I can remember some more things... Things that happened."

Suga looked a little startled, as though he hadn't even expected a response. He reached for a little bottle of hand sanitizer that was in his pocket, massaging the substance into his hands.

"That's good." Suga smiled.

"What's so good about it?" Oikawa scowled. "Remembering what- What they did to me."

Oikawa picked at the blanket. "I hate it," Oikawa admitted. "I hate remembering and I hate the marks they left and- I-" He took a shuddering breath, tugging at the low-hanging, revealing shirt that he had found in his old clothes. It was one of the most covering articles of clothing, and even it was far too revealing. "I can't even stand to look at my body. It's not even my body anymore. It's theirs. It's his."

This was probably the most clear-headed Suga had seen him yet. When Suga had come in, Oikawa had been completely out of it, but now he seemed more aware than Suga had ever seen him, apart from that brief moment after his last talk with Oikawa. Suga thought that Oikawa was more aware of his situation now, was more aware of how many awful things had been done to him. Suga hoped it would last. Not so that Oikawa would continue to be in pain. But so that maybe he could finally start learning how to get past it all.

"I still miss Father," Oikawa admitted, and then shook his head almost a little too hard. "I fucking hate it. I hate myself for missing him. For thinking-" He let out a little choked noise, hands clenching hard and eyes squeezing shut.

"I'm not important to him. I'm just... Just a product. A service to rent. A-" Oikawa made a noise as though he was holding back a sob, and Suga sat at the edge of the bed, hoping to offer a little bit of support.

"I'm just a toy." Oikawa stared down at his marred hands, momentarily seeming trapped in the memories of how each scar came to be.

"You're none of those things." Suga said firmly, drawing Oikawa out of his scattered thoughts.

"But-"

"You aren't." Suga gave him no room to argue. "You were conditioned to think so," Suga slid further onto the bed and turned so his body was facing Oikawa. "That asshole spent five years conditioning you, grooming you to the point that you still think you're his."

"I am!" Oikawa insisted. "He marked me up and showed me off and made sure everybody knows I belong to him!"

“That means nothing.” Suga counters. He wants to badly to grab Oikawa’s hand or pull him in, but knows doing either will just make the brunet panic. “You are not an object, Oikawa.” 

Oikawa was absolutely adamant, completely sure that he was nothing more than what his kidnapper had turned him into. Suga wasn't really sure how long he was there, just trying to convince Oikawa otherwise.

So much for improvement.

\----

“What’s wrong with him?” Kyoutani asked hours later, kneeling at the edge of the bed and petting through Oikawa's hair. He looked in awe, almost, at how out of it Oikawa was. It appeared as though he had used up all of his mental energy for the day, and was simply exhausted. 

“I think he's just a little tired,” Suga crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, watching Iwaizumi closely. The other man stood close by, almost hovering, as though he was worried that Kyoutani was going to hurt Oikawa somehow. “I've never seen him like this, but he should come out of it once he gets some rest.” 

Oikawa just blinked tiredly, staring off into space as if he didn't know where he was. As if he didn't know he was anywhere at all. He was curled up, but his body was limp and relaxed, as though all of his defenses had dropped in his tiredness. When Kyoutani took a careful hold of Oikawa's hand, it remained limp and unmoving in his. 

“Can we talk for a bit, Kyoutani?” Suga asked. “We have a few more questions we need to ask you.” 

Kyoutani stiffened, clearly not liking the thought of having to talk about his past again. But he would, for Oikawa. For Iwaizumi. 

“Of course.” He said. After a moment of hesitation, he let go of Oikawa’s limp hand, standing and moving to step away. Then he paused, turned back and pulled another blanket overtop of Oikawa, as if he were worried Oikawa would get cold. The way he tucked it around Oikawa’s body was almost too gentle, too caring. Not enough like the rough Kyoutani that Iwaizumi knew.

Maybe because Iwaizumi didn’t really know Kyoutani. Not really.

Kyoutani followed Iwaizumi and Suga out of the room, sat himself in the armchair. He was still stiff and uncomfortable, but he seemed at least willing to answer a questions. Not like when police officers had first tried to speak to him, when he fought against them and lashed out and refused to let them get close.

“You and Tooru…” Iwaizumi said after a few awkward moments, sitting on the couch with Suga next to him. “You love him, don’t you.” 

“Of course I do,” Kyoutani said after a split second of silence. “I’ve only ever loved him.” 

“You know he’s not healthy,” Iwaizumi continued. “Right?” 

“Of course I do,” Kyoutani huffed. “And neither am I. It’s not like I want to be with him, or anything.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes were wide like saucers. “You don’t?”

“We could never be together,” KyoutanI said. “I know it and he knows it. Neither of us could handle a relationship. It would be too volatile.” Kyoutani sighed and ran a hand through his curled hair. “Besides, he loves you. As much as I love him… I couldn’t do that to either of you.”

They were both silent for a few moments, and it seemed like the tension that had been between them the past few days was fading. 

“Do…” Iwaizumi paused, thinking. “I think being around you could be good for Tooru,” He said. “If you could come around every few days to talk with him, that would be… appreciated.” 

Kyoutani nodded, seeming less uncomfortable now that he wasn’t worried about being verbally attacked.

“Of course,” He promised. “I’ll come over whenever you need a hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! please let me know with a comment below, and tell me whether or not you're interested in physical copies of UBNU. I'm definitely going to take the time to go through and edit everything in depth and make sure it's exactly how I wanted, and will probably add some extra scenes for just the physical copy. I'm still not sure if I should post the future fic I started for the kids or not. Let me know!!

**Author's Note:**

> This work came to me from my love of the fic Aces, by the lovely MoraMew. They're story absolutely enthralled me from the first chapter, and I've always been in love with the way they portray my favourite characters. However, that wasn't my only inspiration. 
> 
> I've always loved darker stories. Criminal investigation books, movies, shows. Stories that go into the depths of mental health, that aren't afraid to show the darkest sides of the human brain. With this fic, my goal is to explore the dark parts of the mind that I have grown to love and want to get to know even more. If there is anything in this story that comes off as a stereotype, know that I do not mean it that way. As a mentally ill person myself, i have done my own research into the topic. But I am not exempt of making the occasional mistake. Please be considerate in that.


End file.
